


The First Three Dates

by stacydm



Series: Captain America vs. Green Arrow [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:54:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1397080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stacydm/pseuds/stacydm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Although Felicity doesn't know it, she's dating a superhero. He just isn't the superhero everyone (including the Arrow) expected her to end up with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Next Morning

**Author's Note:**

> I am so grateful for everyone's kind words on Part 1 of this story! If you haven't read it, you may want to. I've never been a fan of multi-book stories that end up repeating themselves throughout the first few chapters to catch up newbies, so I didn't do that (sorry to the newbies). 
> 
> Hope everyone loves Part 2 just as much (or even more!). I'll try to get a little smutty too, not right away because Felicity's not that kind of girl (normally) and Captain America is certainly not that kind of guy.

Oliver arrived at Felicity's only a few hours after her release from the hospital. He wanted to tell her, in person, to take the day off. At least, that was his excuse for coming to her home at five to eight in the morning. He really just wanted, needed, to see her. The moment he and Digg came across that broken door knob, the fear of never seeing Felicity again sneaked into his heart. Sadly, it wasn't the first time Oliver realized this fear. When the Count made an attempt on her life, that fear overwhelmed him. The second time that fear took hold had happened only weeks before, when she was shot by the Clock King. But it seemed like the third time was the charm, because ever since the broken door knob, Oliver was having trouble controlling the emotions he locked away in a box labelled "too intense to deal with", or, when that wouldn't keep the lid on, the "you're not good enough for her" box.  

He planned on taking the day too, once Felicity confirmed he could, since he really had no clue what meetings were on his calendar. He needed to beat these feelings of his back into submission, and quickly, before either Sara or Felicity got hurt. He hoped that fixing the door knob, the very thing that triggered his fear, would help put the metaphorical lid back on the too-intense-to-deal-with box.

Knowing it was believable that he was bad at home repair, Oliver texted Digg when he got back to the foundry, telling him they would meet at Felicity's around eight so that they could fix her door, which, at this point, he concluded the jack-ass named Steve broke. Oliver chose to ignore that the reason Steve broke the door was to save an injured Felicity.

Really, Oliver was perfectly capable of repairing a door knob. He just needed Digg there as a chaperone for his wildly out of control emotions.

What Oliver didn't expect when he arrived at Felicity's was that she would already have a chaperone in play. Jealously clouded his mind at the sight of Felicity, asleep on her bed, cuddled intimately into the door-breaking jack-ass.  

It wasn't until he was halfway through his eighth round on the salmon ladder that Oliver realized he bailed, not only on QC, but on Digg and the door knob fixing plan.

*

Steve woke to a silhouette, moving away from Felicity's bedroom. Gently, and regrettably, he untwined Felicity from his body and tip-toed towards her living room. He found no one and, though he didn't catalogue Felicity's belongings the night before, it didn't appear that anything was missing.

"Steve?" A man's voice questioned.  
"Mr. Diggle," Steve said as he approached, stretching his hand in greeting. "Good to see you again. Felicity is still asleep." Steve motioned to her bedroom. When Mr. Diggle gave him sharp look, Steve felt obligated to explain how he knew that.

"Oh, Felicity and I watched _Despicable Me_ when we got back from the hospital. It was pretty good. She asked me to stay, which I was going to anyway to make sure she wouldn't have any troubles, and that her apartment was safe with the door being broken and everything. I thought I saw someone, but it must have been the morning playing tricks on my eyes."

Mr. Diggle considered that, before setting down a toolbox near Felicity's door and reminding Steve to call him John. He also pulled out several items from a canvas bag, including a box of croissants, two pill bottles, and a new door knob. The two men fell into an unspoken sequence. Steve moved the pastries to the kitchen, plated three, then started Felicity's coffee maker (thankfully, it was similar to his own). Mr. Diggle--John--already had the broken handle off the door by the time Steve moved the plated croissants and three mugs of coffee to Felicity's cluttered dinette set.

"Hello?" A soft voice called from Felicity's bedroom. John walked in first, with Steve following close behind.  
"How are you feeling?" John asked her.  
"The tub incident, as I've decided to dub it, was nothing like taking the bullet," Felicity laughed until she looked at Steve. Her expression died and she choked, "Not that I would know anything about that...because obviously I have never taken a bullet. I just meant that I've had worse. Except, no, I really haven't. Once in third grade I broke a finger, but  that isn't really worse than a broken arm."

Felicity's reaction to Steve's presence wasn't usual. She was normally so honest in her rambles. This time, it sounded like she was covering up something. Steve frowned. It made no sense for her to be caught up in a gun fight, he judged, so she couldn't be covering up a bullet wound. _Maybe it's an inside joke she shares with John_. Pushing aside his suspicion, he settled on his inside joke theory.

"Breakfast is on the table," John told her and put her crutches within her reach.  
"On the table?" she cocked an eyebrow. "Not in a bag? Or a box?"  
"Is it not alright that I set the table? I can go fix it."

Steve started to leave the room when Felicity called him back, telling him that it was alright and that he was absolutely not allowed to un-set her dinette. Then she laughed, a little hysterically, at herself for making a rhyme. Her cheerful mood carried to the table as she alternated between sipping her coffee and popping pieces of buttery dough into her mouth.

"This is great. Thank you both so much."  
"Mr. Diggle, John I mean, fixed your door. I would be happy to reimburse you for the door knob," he offered, but John waved him off.  
"Oh great! Thanks for that too. I guess I should get ready for work." Felicity glanced at her clock before letting out a squeak. "I'm late! Shit! Can I shower with a cast? I can't remember what the hospital told me." Her eyes anxiously searched both men for an answer.

John calmly placed his hand over hers. "You have the day off Felicity."  
"What? But I, Oliver..."  
"Oliver was supposed to drop by to tell you, but I guess he had to go into the office early."

And that's when Steve realized it. The shadow he saw earlier. It wasn't a trick of the light. It was Oliver Queen.

*

Digg left for the office an hour later, with multiple notes for Oliver from Felicity. He wasn't surprised to find their boss in a mood. He assumed Oliver was the shadow Steve mentioned. That he had gone to Felicity's, as planned, only to find Steve in Felicity's bedroom, because it was clear to Digg from Steve's reaction that his night wasn't spent on a couch. 

He didn't bother to ask Oliver where he'd been, since Digg doubted he would answer. Plus, Digg gathered from Oliver's damp hair that he'd very recently showered. Given what he found at Felicity's apartment, it wasn't a stretch to guess that Oliver went to let off steam at the foundry before making it to QC just before Digg did.

"First, she says hi," he read off the piece of paper that Felicity had jammed in his hand after her third croissant. "Secondly, she says she would have e-mailed this list, but you wouldn't have read it. You would have opened it, skimmed it, and absorbed nothing, so because of that, she's made me into a carrier pigeon. Thirdly, she's changed around your schedule. Here," Digg passed him another piece of paper with the newly drawn schedule. "Fourthly," he passed Oliver another buddle of papers, "the must-read notes for each of your meetings are highlighted. She didn't write this part down Oliver, but you need to give that girl a raise. Fifthly, Mr. Steele is dropping by around 2:30 to discuss your mother. It's on the schedule," Digg tapped at the first piece of paper, "And lastly, she will call you at noon and at three with any updates. Those calls are also on the schedule."

Digg watched in mild fascination as Oliver's mood lightened with each word, his expression moving from angry guilt to CEO facade to a small uptick of his lips, then, at the mention of his mother, back to CEO facade. When Digg mentioned Felicity's phone calls, however, Oliver grinned.

His smile lasted less than a second, shifting back to angry as Isabel entered the office, yelling about numbers and missing EAs.

That was Digg's cue to leave.

*

At 11:45, Felicity sat next to her phone, leg elevated as per the doctor's orders, which, by the way, she had now reviewed in full. Apparently she could shower with her cast, she just needed to wrap up her arm in plastic first.

Steve left her alone an hour earlier for his volunteer job down in the Glades, but not before catering to her every need. He didn't seem uncomfortable about their evening of snuggles, which was maybe because he didn't think that she knew about it. But she did. Felicity woke up and found herself tangled up in a sleeping Steve in the wee hours of the morning. Rather than separate herself from him, she only snuggled in closer for his warmth. She decided this was okay without his explicit permission when he let a content sigh slip.

Felicity took his reaction to their cuddle-fest, and their upcoming movie date, as a positive sign that he liked her.

And that positive sign made her two things.

She was flattered, thrilled, giddy...all those feelings that come with new love. But she was also apprehensive. There was a new monster, in the form of Slade Wilson, after members of Team Arrow and the Queen Family, and she didn't want Steve caught in those cross hairs.

She wondered how the team would react if she decided to pursue a relationship with Steve. She had gone on dates since joining Team Arrow, but none of them were ever serious, so she never mentioned it. She might have tried for something with Barry, if he didn't live in a different city and wasn't currently sleeping off a coma. Since Barry was the closest she'd been to wanting a relationship in a while, the team's reaction to him was really all she had to go on. Barry's existence didn't faze Digg so much, but Oliver...he was a different matter. And then again, Barry was a different matter too. The Hood was his hero. He knew their secret. He could help their mission (and already did by keeping Oliver alive once).

Steve couldn't help.

And he could never know.

She could not betray Oliver's trust again. She felt guilty enough for telling one person his secret, even though she knew the choice was between that, and letting Oliver die.

Her alarm chimed 11:59, and, as she went to press Oliver's contact button, her phone rang.

"Oliver!" She scolded, "I said I would call you."  
"I know, but I couldn't wait." Her heart fluttered at his words, and she silently screamed at it for betraying her self-imposed Oliver Queen rules and her developing crush on Steve.  
"Impatient as ever Mr. Queen. How has your morning been?"  
"I'm managing. How are you feeling?"  
"Okay. Took another pill, an aspirin. They didn't give me any fun pills to take home. I can probably come by the foundry later if you need me to. As long as someone drives me. I can't drive all too well what with the shift and the arm, and the clutch and the ankle."  
"You should rest Felicity. You can come in tomorrow. I'll come get you."  
"I can't come in the afternoon," she blurted, not meaning to. Oliver rarely needed her in the afternoon, since day light wasn't exactly conducive to vigilantism.     
"Why not?"  
"Steve and I are going to a movie."

Silence answered her. She looked at the phone, wondering if they got disconnected. They didn't.

"Oliver?"  
"I have to go," he replied gruffly.  
"No, wait," she responded, just as brusque.  
"What?" He snapped.  
"Your 2:30 with Walter's been pushed to 3, so I will call you at 3:20."  
"It's fine Felicity, I'll be fine without you for a day. Rest. We'll talk later," he softened.  
"At 3:20."  
"Fine."

*

Oliver hung up, his momentary good mood destroyed by Steve Rogers. He typed the name into the search engine once more, and, after coming up with nothing, he called in Digg for back-up.

"We know nothing about this guy, and yet she's going out with him? What happened to Barry?"  
"I thought you didn't like Barry?" Digg smirked.  
"Well I like him a hell of a lot more than someone I know shit about."  
"I'll see what I can do Oliver. My advice? Ask her."

Of course, both Digg and Oliver knew that wasn't going to happen.

Seeing Walter at 3 o'clock was a welcome moment in Oliver's hectic Friday schedule. It also meant he was 20 minutes closer to talking with Felicity.

"Oliver!" Walter boomed.  
"Walter." They exchanged a brief handshake before sitting.  
"Where's Miss. Smoak this afternoon? Her old IT stomping grounds?"  
"Actually, Felicity was in an accident last night. Some minor injuries," Oliver explained, alleviating Walter's concern. "I gave her the day."  
"Unfortunate. You'll tell her I said hello and to feel better?"  
"Definitely. What can I do for you today?"

Walter, aware of the pressures that the title CEO brought, was to the point. He wanted Oliver to speak at a banquet, hosted for his mother's campaign. Walter already sent the details to Felicity, and she cleared his calendar for the following night. As much as Oliver cringed at the idea, he had promised Moira campaign support and, if Thea found out he said no to speaking, her inkling that there were mother-son issues would only mature. Oliver agreed, and walked Walter out, only to be stopped by a handful of executives on his way back to his office.

By the time Oliver returned to his glass cage, the clock had rolled right past Felicity's call-in time. He checked for messages, but received none. Immediately, Oliver phoned her, only to end up listening to her voicemail.

Fearing something was wrong, he ignored Felicity's carefully hand-drawn schedule and rushed to her building to check on her.

*

"Felicity?"  
She felt a tap on her shoulder, and slowly opened her eyes.  "Oliver?"

Seconds later she was enveloped into a bear hug, and squeezed against Oliver's chest. His breathing was laboured and she wanted to ask what was wrong, but kept quiet, knowing that any sound she may make would startle Oliver and stop him from hugging her. Eventually, he lessened his grip (though, Felicity noticed, he kept both of his hands on her).

"You didn't call. I thought...I thought something might be wrong."

Felicity titled her head to get a look at her clock. It was nearly four.

"Oliver! You're missing a meeting right now. Oh no no no no. You need to call in. Here." She passed him her phone, which was ringing into the conference room. "You need an excuse...um...what's a good lie that doesn't normally result in question...mmmm...tell them, tell them you had a family emergency!"  
He rolled his eyes at her as the line connected. "Not much a lie there. You are my family."   


	2. The First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity enjoys her first official night (technically, afternoon) out with Steve Rogers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got a little away from me, so I apologize for the length. I started to cut some of the "extras", but I just couldn't bring myself to do too much chopping. And, it gets a little smutty, which I have NEVER written in any capacity so please, suggestions are welcome and encouraged! 
> 
> PS. Thanks again for the support of this story! It means the world!

Felicity woke up in darkness, figuring she dozed off during Oliver's business call since she couldn't recall anything about the meeting, other than Oliver explaining to the corporate heads that he had a family emergency. Her eyes drifted around her home for any sign of him. The only thing she found was a note on the coffee table, telling her to take it easy and that they'd be happy to have her at the lair if she felt up to it after her date. _Sara and me can pick you up after the campaign banquet,_ the note said.

The campaign banquet which she totally forgot to tell him about. She dialed Oliver immediately to apologize, but it was Sara who picked up.

"Hey Felicity. What's up?"  
"I forgot to tell Oliver about the banquet tomorrow night."  
"He knows about it though?" Sara sounded confused.  
"Yeah...I just spaced, and I wanted to tell him sorry for not mentioning it. Mr. Steele must have let him know. I'm not being a very good employee today," Felicity admitted. "I didn't go in to the office, and then I fell asleep when I was supposed to call Oliver, and then I fell asleep again during a business call..."  
"If it makes you feel any better, I tried some flair bartending this evening and broke a $200 bottle of vodka. It's a good thing my boyfriend's sister runs this joint."

Felicity snorted, and, surprisingly, Sara did make her feel better.

"Oliver mentioned we might pick you up after the banquet," Sara continued.  
 "Yep, I'll keep you guys posted on if I'm coming in. I have a date with Steve in the afternoon, so I'm not sure how tired I'll be after that. Injured tired. Not sex tired.  Because it's my first date with Steve and even though he's already seen me naked, that doesn't make me the kind of girl who has sex with someone on the first date. There were a few times without first dates. It's really tequila's fault though. Which is why I exclusively drink red wine. So yeah, if I'm tired it will not be from having sex on a first date."  
"I don't know Felicity...bet Steve could really wear a girl out," Sara sniggered. "Can't wait to hear all about it. If you don't come in tomorrow night, I'm still going to call for details."

She wasn't exactly sure what series of events occurred that resulted in her and Sara being date-detail buddies, but Felicity, who never had many girlfriends, was happy for it, whatever the cause.

*

Steve phoned Natasha first thing in the morning, hoping she would share some last minute date advice. Really, he was hoping she would have a suggestion for how to fill the three hour gap between picking Felicity up for lunch and taking her to a show. He already scratched out four perfectly terrible ideas on his sketchpad, including a picnic (which made no sense, since they would have just eaten lunch), dancing (which was apparently not possible at any of the city's clubs on a Saturday afternoon), roller skating (which also was not possible because Starling City had zero roller skating rinks), and the batting cage (which Steve eliminated because he didn't know if Felicity liked baseball and wasn't entirely sure he wouldn't show off his strength).

"Assuming lunch goes well, you could always make-out," Natasha suggested. "What did they call that in your day? Parking?"  
"I need serious advice," Steve huffed.  
"That was serious advice. Take it from a 21st century girl."  
"Natasha, I really do need help here. I haven't been on many dates."  
"Because I have?"  
"What?"  
"Steve, I know you're all about having this normal life, and I'm glad you're getting an opportunity to explore that side of the world again, but I don't have a normal life. I never have. So I can't give you advice on how to date a normal girl. I can only inform you on basic human needs. You're a hunk, and she's not a blind woman. She'll want to make out. Trust me."

His conversation with Natasha did nothing to put him at ease.

*

Felicity was on her eighth outfit. The first seven just didn't seem good enough for a maybe-relationship-material first date. She tried her purple denims and her watercolour chiffon blouse, her skin-tight open back dress, one of her many cozy sweaters and pairs of tights. Finally, she realized a second opinion was needed. Since her only close girlfriend was extremely unclose geographically, Felicity decided to expand on her growing friendship with Sara, and sent a picture of herself in a zipper up dress, and then another in colourful orange denims and a heart patterned sweater. _Which one?_ she texted.

She figured if Sara wanted the date details, she could at least earn them by helping her not look like an over- or under-dressed dating moron.

When Felicity's doorbell rang twenty minutes later, she had a minor freak out. Steve couldn't be an hour and a half early. He was too polite for that. And if he was at the door, she couldn't let him in to her house. Her entire closet was currently on the floor in her living room.

"Felicity? It's me," Sara called.  
"Oh thank god." Felicity opened her door and gestured to herself and her apartment. "I thought you were Steve and I'm really frazzled, if you couldn't tell. Like, way more than normal frazzled."  
"I gathered that when you asked me for what-to-wear advice. You do realize my wardrobe is pretty much t-shirts, while you, without any fashion advice from me or anyone else, always look perfect?"  
"You have your style, I have mine," Felicity replied. "And right now, my fashion judgement is severely impaired at the idea of going on a first date with someone I'd like to have a second and third date with. So this?" Felicity scrambled around her living room, pulling up a white skirt and blush blouse, "Or this?" She dropped the skirt and blouse and grabbed another pair of colourful denims.  
"What are you doing on your date?" Sara asked as she perched on one of Felicity's dining room chairs, scouting out the pile of clothing Felicity rejected.  
"Lunch, followed by a matinee."  
"I think the second outfit you sent me, the jeans and the sweater, will be perfect. Go put that on."

Felicity nodded, sighing with relief, and went to change, thanking Sara through the door of her bedroom. After applying a quite coat of deep coral lipstick, she returned to the living room where Sara was holding up one of her dresses.

"That would look great on you," Felicity told her, because, hell, anything and nothing would look great on Sara. "Do you have an outfit for tonight? It's not a black tie event. You could wear that if you want. Or any of my dresses." Felicity looked at the floor, realizing just how many options that gave Sara. _No more shopping sprees on dresses_ , Felicity reprimanded herself.

The smile Sara gave her was the same one she shared the last few times Felicity did something she considered the norm (like, not judging Sara for being a member of a league of assassins). Felicity guessed that the little things mattered to Sara. After all, she spent three, four maybe, years with a group of people who killed for money. Kindness probably didn't run thick in that particular group.

"I still have an hour. Want me to do your nails? We can either match the dress or do something outrageous." Felicity wiggled her eyebrows and was pleased she wrangled a laugh from Sara. Getting these vigilantes to lighten up wasn't an easy gig. Sara agreed, somewhat reluctantly, to take the outrageous route, and Felicity painted her fingers and toes in a bright, sparkly purple, pink, and gold polish, which happened to be a perfect companion to the caramel satin dress Sara chose from Felicity's floor closet.

"What size are your feet? I know you don't like heels but I have some really nice flats, that also happen to be super comfortable." When she dragged Sara into her shoe closet, there was a gasp.  
"I'm reconsidering your invite to girls night. You clearly have too much in common with Laurel and her Laurel-ettes."

For a moment, Sara's words stung. But when she squeezed Felicity's arm gently and gave her that soft smile once again, Felicity realized Sara had only been teasing, sisterly teasing. They stayed that way for a minute, until their moment was interrupted by a doorbell.

*

Steve waited patiently, hearing commotion on the other side of the door. The time she was taking to answer made Steve uneasy, and he started to reconsider all of his plans. Maybe he should have worn a different shirt than his blue plaid. It was outdated, according to his fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Or maybe the movie he picked wasn't something Felicity wouldn't want to see. She told him to choose, but now he was nervous he chose wrong. Was it some kind of test? The dames he worked with, excluding Natasha, often talked about how their dates or boyfriends failed some arbitrary test they made up. Maybe Felicity was doing the same. Then there were the flowers...

He nearly threw them away, but Felicity's voice stopped him.

"Hi Steve!"  
"Hi Felicity."

Her bright lips distracted him from his shirt and movie and flower dilemmas, and he stared at them a second too long. The awkward silence set in. For just a second.

"These are for you." He passed her the bouquet of tulips.  
"Thank you, these are stunning. Come in. Let me get them in some water before we go." He followed her only to find someone else in her apartment.  
"Hello Miss. Lance. How are you?"  
"Sara. And good. Felicity was just helping me get ready for a date with Oliver later."

If there was one thing Steve did not understand, it was Felicity's relationship to Oliver. There was an obvious, and strong, connection between the pair, yet if it was romantic, he couldn't help but think that Oliver's girl would be jealous of Felicity. Wouldn't she avoid Felicity, or was this one of those keep your enemies closer situations? He would have to get Natasha's read on it later. Maybe it was one of these 21st century things he didn't quite grasp yet.

"There!" Felicity announced, bringing a vase of tulips from her kitchen to her dining room table, which, Steve noticed, was free of the clutter he found the previous morning. "Shall we?" She looked at Steve expectantly and hopeful and happy, and suddenly he felt more nervous about the date than that time the sky opened up and aliens poured out of it.  

Yet, when Felicity took his arm and patted it tenderly, the anxiousness that had swallowed him up all morning dissipated, leaving him with nothing but confidence. He _had_ managed to get this beautiful woman to accept a date with him, after all. So why shouldn't he feel a little cocky?

*

Lunch was perfect, Felicity decided. Steve and her had walked through a park in their neighborhood to a small bistro she always wanted to try, but never found the time between QC and Arrow business. They started with a bottle of red and a cheese and charcuterie plate. Steve followed that up with a classic meatloaf, while Felicity opted for a French onion soup.

Midway through her second glass of wine, Felicity summoned the courage to ask Steve about his plans.

"Are you going to be staying in Starling for a while?"  
"I would like to. There's always the possibility I'll get called away for work, but that's the job."  
"So you aren't really on leave?"  
"I am, unless they need me. I have a pretty specific skill set." Felicity gave him her patented stare until he elaborated. "I'm just very good at what I do. One of the best."  
"That doesn't really tell me anything about this skill set, or about what exactly you do for the military." Steve shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  
"Would you hate me if I told you its classified?"

And as much as Felicity wanted to say no, a part of her did not like that it was a mystery.

"You know, I really hate mysteries. I might have to do some digging, which just so happens to be my specific skill set." She knew it sounded a bit like a threat, but part of her wanted to see how he would react to that.  
"I would encourage that actually. I'm sorry I can't be more honest about it. I can tell you it's with an elite team within the United States government, and I started out as a regular guy just wanting to do my part for the country."

And Felicity not only believed Steve, but trusted him, mystery and all. It was the same instinct she relied on a year ago when she brought Oliver Walter's book.

"Even if you get called away, will you come back? I don't mean to nag about it, but the last guy I considered getting involved with lived somewhere else. He also got hit by lightening. You're not planning on being in some freak accident, are you?"

Steve laughed loudly, reassuring her that even if lightening struck twice, he'd still be around to take her to a show.

*

They ended up finishing lunch an hour before the show's start time, and Steve's thoughts of how to fill that hour vanished. The only thing that was running through his mind was Natasha's suggestion: kissing Felicity. Her lips were still vibrant, and her mouth said such smart things, and her hair looked so soft...

"Steve? Earth to Steve."  
"What? Sorry. I...sorry."  
"Not a problem. Sometimes I get in here," she pointed to her temple, "and kind of lose track of what's happening around me too. I said there's a neat little music store on the corner. It's mostly vinyl, but jazz is a lot better that way, don't you think? Or maybe you don't like jazz. You kind of seem like you could. Either that, or country. Please don't tell me that your favourite music is twangy country."  
"I don't think twangy country is for me. I do like jazz. And records are great."

Felicity lead him, taking his hand in hers, to the record store. He was surprised by Felicity's knowledge of 1930's music. She seemed particularly smitten with Billie Holiday. Steve understood being smitten moments later, when Felicity covered her ears with headphones running from a nearby record player and began humming, then singing, along to Miss. Holiday. Felicity's voice was magical, and he was mesmerized.

When she became aware of her voice carrying through the record shop, she flushed a light pink.

"Keep going," Steve mouthed, and he took his attention from her face, flipping through a stack of albums, but kept his ears tuned to her sound. It didn't take long for their hour of freedom to disappear, and before Steve knew it, they were sitting down in the theatre.

Felicity toed off her shoes the second the lights dimmed, tucking her feet underneath her, and moving her free hand to Steve's leg, squeezing it lightly.

"I'm so happy you picked this movie. I've been wanting to see it." He grinned at her, placing his hand on top of hers. Those were the last words they exchanged before the trailers started. And that was good, because Steve was quite sure the only sounds he'd be capable of making would be garbled moans. During the show, Steve had to stifle several of those garbled moans, each caused by Felicity's hands. Her fingers linked with his, twirled patterns on the surface of his khakis, and traced the veins along his hands and arms. Each touch burned into Steve's skin, and his urge to kiss Felicity, to feel her lips against his, swelled.

*

It was incredible to Felicity how comfortable she was with Steve, considering how little she knew about him. She did a quick background check after meeting him, out of habit more than suspicion. His story checked out. Military family, leading to his military career. Brooklyn, born and bred. At first she felt like there was something he was holding back, and now that he admitted that there were things he couldn't tell her, she felt closer to him, and a little less guilty for not sharing her own secrets.

She didn't mean to keep touching him. She kept trying to stop herself, but then her hand would get tangled up in his, or she'd shift and it would caress his leg, and the next thing she knew, she was stroking it. _Not_ it _. His leg,_ she clarified to no one but herself. However, with each touch, she was becoming more eager to get to the point where maybe she could stroke _it_.

So when Steve asked Felicity if she wanted to go back to his place for a cup of "coffee", she was more than willing to accept.

 *

When Steve invited Felicity in, he literally meant coffee. In fact, he completely forgot that inviting someone into your home for a beverage after a date had an alternative meaning. But when he turned around after closing the door, and Felicity was in his space, he did the thing he wanted to do since she opened her own door and he saw those bright lips. He leaned over and she stretched onto her toes to meet him, their lips connecting softly.

*

Felicity instinctively deepened the kiss, wanting more. It had been so long since she'd been kissed, she forgot how great that first kiss could be. Wrapping her fingers around his neck, and playing with his hair, she tugged him in closer, pushing her body into his.

*

His teeth caressed her bottom lip just as his tongue started to dance around hers. All his goodness was screaming at him to stop, to get her that cup of coffee as promised, but the softness of Felicity's body against his, and the way she was nipping and sucking his jaw and neck and earlobe made him forget all about being good.

And in that moment, he did something he always wanted to do. He picked up Felicity, who immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, and turned, so that her back was up against the door, and he was now pressed into her. His hands found her ass, and he began kneading it gently while he kissed down to her collarbone.

*

"Mmmm, yes. Steve. I love that. Again. Mmmm."  

Felicity couldn't stop the soft moans that escaped any more than she could stop her toes from curling each time he nipped at a particularly sensitive path below her ear. As much as Felicity didn't want to break her no-sex-on-the-first-date rule, the heat she was feeling got the better of her. Plus, Steve had already seen her naked, it only seemed fair for him to reciprocate, at least a little. She had half the buttons undone on his shirt before he noticed. He moved to stop her with one of his hands, which was impressive, since he was still holding her up with the other. But Felicity didn't want to stop. Not yet.

And so pleasure coursed through her for two reasons when she moved his hand to her left breast and began massaging it with him. Her nipples peaked at his touch, and when he picked up the rhythm she preferred, she went back to his shirt buttons as he moved to attend to her other breast.

"Couch," Felicity demanded, and Steve obliged.

*  
He sat, as instructed, mind blank of any thoughts excluding bliss and Felicity. She straddled him and pushed his shirt away, pulling the white undershirt he wore over his head, before capturing his lips once again. She moved down his body, over each nipple and down the taunt lines of his six-pack, teasing it with her tongue, and then back up to his earlobe, jaw, and lips.

With a sly smile, she pulled her modest sweater over her head, tossing it off to the side.

"Only seems fair," she winked. Steve followed her lead, kissing down her body, suckling her rosy nipples, first through the sheer lace bra, and then, when Felicity pulled her breasts out of the bra's cups, Steve teased them some more, without the fabric barrier. Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging gently with each caress and flick of his tongue.

He was suddenly very thankful for those S.H.I.E.L.D. lessons in seduction and for the girly magazine subscriptions Tony got him as a joke.

*

Felicity was breathless, panting against Steve's warm skin. It had been forever since she lost herself like that, willing for the connection between her and Steve to never end. Of course, when her stomach grumbled, it did interrupt the mood a little.

"Hungry?" Steve asked her. Both of them seemed a little shocked that six o'clock had rolled right into half past seven. Felicity could not remember the last time she made out with someone for over an hour. She wasn't  actually sure that had ever happened.  
"I'm hungry for you," she ran a lone finger down his chest, and was empowered when she felt his cock twitch beneath her thigh.

And that's when make-out round two started.

It was a little rougher than the first hour, as Felicity raked her nails down Steve's back and clashed teeth against teeth with deeper, frantic kisses. Felicity could tell she was leaving a trail of hickeys down Steve's chest, and when he responded in kind, marking her flesh with his lips, she was surprised by her feelings of satisfaction and delight.

*

He wanted to possess every inch of Felicity's perfect skin. Once he noticed the mark she left by his heart, something inside him snapped, and he tasted the flat plains of her stomach, the smooth curve of her breast, the strong line of her shoulder. The soft whimpers and sharp intakes and twitches pushed at Steve's control. He ached to explore even more of Felicity's body, but didn't want to make that first move. So instead he slowed the pace, before things got even more out of hand.

His kisses and touches became languid. Steve flipped her onto his chest, lying underneath her on the couch. One of his hands combed through her tousled hair and, with the other, he drew small circles and figure 8's along her back and up her spine.  

"You are so beautiful Felicity Smoak," he murmured. She glanced up at him through her long lashes and smiled sweetly, before resting her head against his heart.

*

Topless pleasure was as far as Felicity let it go, as much as she didn't want to stop. But it didn't seem like Steve wasn't pressing for anything more, since he hadn't attempted to reach for the button of her jeans. Then again, it wouldn't surprise her if he too had a no-sex-on-the-first date rule. Steve was just that kind of guy.  

*

Sara followed Oliver down the stairs in the foundry. They hadn't heard a peep from Felicity, and Sara gathered his bad mood was a combination of that and dealing with his mother all evening. Although Moira seemed to like Sara well enough outside of the public eye, events like the one tonight only reminded both Moira, and Sara, how bad she was at the Queen lifestyle.

"Oliver, I think we need to talk about us." Sara told him, sitting him down in Felicity's chair. Oliver waited for her to continue, clearly unsure of what to say. "I know that we have a history, a very dramatic, traumatic history. And I love you."  
"Sara, you know that I love you too."  
"I do Oliver. But I don't think either of us have the right kind of love for this relationship. I didn't know what I wanted when I started this. And, even though I didn't know what I wanted, I've always known that you and I are not right together. We're forged from the same fire and that makes us a match. And because we're a match, we can't be whole. We'll always be missing something, something that neither of us can give the other."

Oliver didn't respond for a few minutes. He didn't seem angry, or sullen. He was thoughtful, even accepting of what Sara was saying.

"You're right. You're always right. We are the same, and something is missing."  
"I still want to be a part of this team. I still want to help you."  
"Sara, you will always be a part of this team. You will always be a part of me, my life."  
"I know Ollie."

She kissed him once on his cheek and left, eager to find the person who could, hopefully, make her whole.

*

Oliver stared into his hands, thinking over Sara's words. He didn't disagree with her. Some people, he knew, fell in love because they met the right person. Their match. Their soul mate. These words, Oliver hated. They implied that the _one_ , his _one_ , needed to be cut from the same cloth he was. But Sara was right. Both of them didn't need someone like them. They needed the opposite. They needed someone to make them whole. To bring happiness to their sadness, compassion to their coldness, and light to their dark. And for Oliver, he knew he already had that person.

Except, he didn't really have her at all.


	3. The Second Date(s) - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity finds a lead on Slade Wilson, and shares an impromptu second date with Steve.

Felicity's life returned to its new normal for a few days after her evening with Steve. She was so energized after the date, that her mind wouldn't stop cranking its gears. Luckily, one of those gears shifted perfectly, and she found a lead on Slade Wilson.

Although Sunday mornings were not meant for Arrow business, Felicity was so excited that she called in the team to share the lead, and the plan to follow it up. Diggle picked her up, since she was still crutch-bound, and they headed to the foundry together. Felicity expected everyone to already be there, but only Oliver was, waiting at the top of the lair's staircase when she entered. He must have know that the stairs would not be easily manoeuvred on crutches, and, without a word, he tucked his arms around her, and carried Felicity down to her computers.

His action was a setback for Felicity. She patted herself on the back just that morning for befriending Sara and supporting her relationship with Oliver, and for finding someone outside of their world who was as close to perfect as any human being could be. But as Oliver cradled her against his body, she found that her resolve to move on faded, and her feelings that she reasoned away as a crush bubbled back to the surface.

Because really, it wasn't a crush and Felicity happened to be a genius, so she knew that. She knew with every brain cell in her pretty blonde head that she never loved anyone the way she loved Oliver Queen.

She was trying, so hard, to love him only as a friend. And it was working. Their charged connection that crackled when they were alone (and sometimes not alone) was lessening. Or it had been, until she came to the foundry, still wound up from her night with Steve, and ended up pressed up against a hard body she associated with sex, and love, and trust.

"Sorry I didn't touch base last night," Felicity apologized when they reached the bottom of the stairs and Oliver placed her back on the ground. She hobbled over to her chair, not waiting for her crutches, desperate to put some physical distance between them. "Steve and I ended up staying out a little later, and then I just wanted to curl up at home. But I did work! Which is why we three are here. What about Roy and Sara?"

"Present," Sara called, Roy trailing behind. "What's the lead?"

Felicity dove into her explanation, about how she was combing high-end hotels and new condo sales, and she came across one particular building that looked like a good fit.

"I thought you could try to do some recon. Oliver I mean. I realize you're all superheroes and very capable of doing recon, but this particular mission requires our homeless billionaire. Oliver, you can't be the CEO of a billionaire dollar company while sleeping on a cot in a basement. And don't tell me you've had worse," she pointed at him, and, judging by the way he shut his mouth, those were the exact words she was about to hear. "I thought you and Sara could go look at some condos. This is the location that I think Slade is at, and I've already set you up with a real estate agent. You're meeting her in three hours."  
"This is Isabel's building," Oliver said flatly when he looked up at one of Felicity's computer screens.

Felicity was already aware of this fact. The easily annoyed part of her when it came to any intimate knowledge Oliver held about Isabel was very happy to tell him the next part of the lead.

"Yes, well, that's the kicker. I kind of think that Slade and Isabel are working together."

*

Oliver listened to Felicity's explanation with skepticism. Not that Felicity deserved his doubt. It was just that the idea of Isabel partnering with Slade was terrifying. Yet, Felicity's confidence trumped Oliver's fear and uncertainties. She connected the pair of them through several companies, including Stellmoor, and matched over twelve locations in a three year period where Isabel and Slade had met up. He knew Felicity was good at what she did, the best, but the fact that she found any information on Slade led him to believe that maybe it was planted.

It dawned on him too late that he voiced his concern to the group.

"It's a possibility," Felicity acknowledged, un-phased. "That's why this operation is supposed to be not at all suspicious or Arrowy or island Oliver Queen-ish. You will be doing something completely normal!" Felicity's enthusiasm was met with none, but it didn't diminish her attitude. "You see, Slade knows you aren't at the mansion, so house hunting is really a logical thing to do when you have buckets of money and aren't living at home. Plus, the real estate agent isn't just showing you that building. You'll be looking at four places, and, hopefully at the end of this, you might know a little bit about where Slade is spending his days and also own property outside of your mother's name. This way, you and Sara can't stop crashing on a cot. Two birds. One arrow."

Felicity crossed her arms and leveled him with a look, waiting for him to attack her plan. Oliver didn't bother to tell the group that Sara and him were no longer sleeping buddies, and neither did Sara. Instead, he nodded, catching Felicity's quickly covered smug grin. She gave the group a brief description of each building Oliver and Sara would be looking at, with a focus on the suspected dwelling of Mr. Wilson.

Oliver was more focused on the other three options, which Felicity undoubtedly chose with his tastes in mind. The floor plans were large and open, and all three locations were close to the foundry. The buildings were all equipped with private elevators and private garages and private rooftop terraces. The most surprising detail to Oliver wasn't that Felicity had figured out the functional aspects he would have chosen in a home, but that she got the smallest of details right. Each choice had a very impressive shower, and Oliver was certain that he never spoke to Felicity about his love for fancy, large showers.

Her attention to his needs and his wants was astounding, and it made him feel good, really good. She cared, and even if she wasn't his and ended up in the arms of some Barry Allen or Steve Rogers, she would always care and his life would never be void of her light.

After Felicity's briefing, Roy continued his bow work, and Sara and Diggle took turns sparring with each other and Oliver. When Sara disappeared to Felicity's desk, Oliver observed quietly, wondering if Sara would mention their break-up.

"So, how was your date? I wanted to call for details, but when you didn't phone, I thought maybe you were still getting me something worthy of sharing."

Oliver couldn't take his eyes away from Felicity's blushing cheeks, and his jaw paid the price when Diggle got him squarely with a bo-staff. Shaking it off, they started sparring again. It didn't last long, his attention on the match waning when he overheard Sara's thrill at finding a hickey on Felicity's neck.

That time around, Digg took him to the mat by swiping his legs at the knees.

It happened twice more before Felicity rounded him up and sent him on his way with Sara.

*

Two days later, Team Arrow knew that Slade was staying with Isabel (though the specifics of their connection was still in question), and Oliver was officially sleeping in a real bed in his very own penthouse, equal distance from the foundry, Felicity's home, and Diggle's apartment.

Their success spurred Felicity into research mode. She was a genius, after all, so she should be able to crack whatever evil plan Slade and Isabel were brewing. It wasn't like the team didn't know the evil plan's ultimate outcome. Slade wanted Oliver to suffer, to know despair. Felicity could guess that meant destroying his confidence and ruining his relationships with his friends and family (or being very thorough at it and killing his friends and family). It also probably meant devastating QC, which was the clue to Isabel's involvement. From the list of all the ways Slade could make Oliver suffer, Felicity decided they should tackle two key areas. The first item, and the easier item, was preventing Slade from taking away Thea's trust in Oliver by telling her about Malcolm Merlyn. Felicity texted Oliver with his must-do list of one item, and the very solid reasoning for it.

The second, and more difficult, task was figuring out Isabel and all the possible routes she could take to become CEO of QC. And then thwart it, asap. Felicity found out that Isabel had been meeting, secretly, with several of the more outspoken board members just as her doorbell rang. She expected it to be Oliver, prepared to fight her on the tell-Thea-the-truth plan.

Instead, Steve was there, bag of groceries in hand.

"I wanted to say hello. And make you dinner. It can't be easy with one hand in a cast and crutches."   
"I actually don't need the crutches anymore, see?" Felicity walked to her kitchen, inviting Steve to follow. "What are you making me tonight?"  
"I got the ingredients for spaghetti again, in case you don't like butter chicken."   
"I love butter chicken, if it's not too much trouble."   
"No trouble at all," Steve smiled, requesting the items he needed to get to work.

Felicity and Steve cooked together, mincing garlic, dicing onion, and chopping chicken. He chatted about his work in Glades, and she attempted to explain a new program she was developing. They talked about what they might do the next night, their planned date night, and settled on going out dancing to a little jazz club Felicity read about when researching Verdant's status on Starling City's night club circuit.

*

"How did Sara enjoy that banquet last weekend?" Steve asked during a lull in conversation, trying to feign disinterest. During the week, he had talked to Natasha about the Oliver-Felicity-Sara situation. She was hoping on flying in to see the dynamic for herself, but was trapped overseas at the moment. Judging by Steve's assessment, she told him that it sounded like Felicity and Oliver were close as friends, not as something more. Otherwise, the girlfriend wouldn't be so friendly, Natasha had reasoned.

But Steve couldn't shake it. He was sure that if Natasha saw how Oliver looked at Felicity, she wouldn't think it was just a close friendship.

"I don't think she enjoyed it too much. She's not really into the whole gala thing, but it's a part of being Oliver Queen's girlfriend," Felicity shrugged.  
"Are you into the gala thing?"  
"I like the pretty dress and tall shoes and the getting made-up portion. I don't care for the bite-size food or stuffy personalities. Well, sometimes the bite-size food is good. Sara doesn't really care for any of that though. I think it will probably take her some time to adjust is all."  
"Adjust?"  
"Sara was alone, shipwrecked, for five, almost six years," Felicity explained. "So people and crowds and real life isn't always easy."  
"Shipwrecked like Oliver?"  
"Yes."

The mood shifted to something more somber, as Steve considered that. He often felt alone in this century, millennium really, but he was never truly alone since the day he awoke. He couldn't imagine five years of having no one but your own thoughts.

Steve had a new appreciation for both Mister Queen and Miss Lance, and he was reconsidering his feelings toward Oliver when Felicity's shriek brought him back to the moment.

"Your shirt!" Felicity ran for her paper towel holder. "Here." She started dobbing the butter chicken sauce that had splattered out of the pan on onto Steve's shirt.   
"It's not a problem, Felicity."   
"Oh here, I have some hand-wash only detergent. We can soak your shirt in it."

Just as Felicity made a move to take off Steve's shirt, the butter chicken sauce splattered again, staining Felicity's own clothing.

"Damn. Here, hand over yours. I'll soak them together."

*

"Can you grab the door?" he heard Felicity say. Oliver almost opened the door himself when he heard her voice, but never got the chance. Instead, jack-ass Steve, specifically a shirtless jack-ass Steve, opened it.  
"Mister Queen," the man nodded. Oliver noted that he didn't move to let him come inside.   
"Who is it?" Felicity called again, her footsteps nearing them. Neither of them responded, both knowing she would enter the room in less than a second. "Oliver?"

Oliver couldn't form an immediate response. Felicity's hair was tousled, her lips were without lipstick, and her body was wrapped in a robe. His eyes flicked between Felicity's appearance and Steve's shirtlessness. _Fuck._ _Fuck fuck fuck fuck!_ Oliver screamed in his head. How could Felicity have slept with him? How could she have let him put his hands on her flawless skin? _Fuck!_

"Oliver?" Felicity repeated. He focused on her eyes, willing himself to forget what he saw.   
"I was in the neighbourhood," he lied, "and thought we could talk about Thea. Her birthday is coming up and you know I'm bad at that sort of thing."

Felicity nodded hesitantly, and he knew he was busted. Thea's birthday wasn't for two months. Of course Felicity would know that. She was probably already investigating the best birthday gifts for his baby sister.

"I see you have company though. Nice to see you again Mr. Rogers." Oliver moved his eyes to Steve, acknowledging him, and then returned his gaze to Felicity. "I'll leave you to your night. Sorry for interrupting."   
"No problem. Don't forget to call Thea. I didn't put it in your calendar, so your phone won't remind you, but it's important."

He knew that she knew he came here to discuss her demand. It was obvious from the words she spoke, and from the look she gave him. Those blue pools of hers were telling him that if he didn't enlighten Thea about her parentage, she would before Slade got the chance.

"I'll do that. Tonight. Promise."  
"Good. Have a nice night."

She closed the door without anything further. Oliver stood there, still processing what he saw, until he heard a giggle, a Felicity giggle, and decided the last thing he wanted was a soundtrack to go along with his imagination. He hurried out to his bike and drove around for an hour, attempting to clear his head, before he made his way to Verdant, knowing that if he left it any longer, Thea might be gone for the night.

And Thea needed to be there. Because Oliver knew that if he didn't talk to her tonight, he wouldn't be able to face Felicity for two reasons when the morning rolled around.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't fear, the next chapter has some smuttiness. 
> 
> Also, I thought about having Oliver seeing some smuttiness between Felicity and Steve via stalking her outside her home, but I don't really see Oliver as the stalking type, so much as the barging-in type, so I changed it up.


	4. The Second Date(s) - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The real second date, which isn't the only first of the date for Captain America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've decided, against the world that CA2 created and the DC universe, to keep Captain's secret identity just that. To me, it just makes more sense for the following reasons: 
> 
> 1) He's got a helmet that hides his eyes and part of his face. I realize he's taken it off in a fight, but why would you bother having a mask if it doesn't matter? 
> 
> 2) He works with spies (e.g., Natasha). I suspect the spy industry is difficult to succeed in if everyone knows who you work for. Granted, his stars and stripes outfit probably gives that away...
> 
> 3) I don't see S.H.I.E.L.D., considering the effort to keep Stark's identity secret in Iron Man 1, and the fall-out from not keeping it secret (blown up house, anyone? How about crazy whip guy at the race car track?), supporting a full blown Captain America museum display. I would imagine they would keep his identity secret for the sake of no. 2 (i.e., to not have their best asset attacked in his home).
> 
> Plus, as I've mentioned before, The Avengers gives off the vibe that regular people in society pre-NY didn't know who Captain America was (which makes sense, since he was frozen up until then, more or less). It's possible that some reporters went digging up old 1940's news stories, which may or may not have referenced Steve Rogers, and, if they did reference him, put the Steve Rogers name to the Captain America face. People may even believe in immortality, considering aliens just flew out of the sky, so they may have thought that a 95 year-old man was jumping around kicking alien butt. However, I still can't see S.H.I.E.L.D. stepping in to correct the record accurately...doesn't seem like their cup of tea. 
> 
> So, in conclusion, hope no one minds the deviation from the movie and that you all still enjoy what I'm putting out there. Cheers, and thanks for reading, the comments, and the kudos!

Heels clicked on the marble, signaling a woman's approach. Felicity expected those heels to belong to none other than Evil Isabel, so when she looked up and saw Thea, Felicity was pleasantly surprised.

"Good morning Miss. Queen," she greeted brightly, "Mr. Queen is in a meeting for another 10 minutes. You're more than welcome to wait, or I can let him know you stopped by."   
"Actually, I came to see you," she announced, taking Felicity's hand and hauling her into Oliver's office. Felicity followed, knowing she had no choice. Refusing Thea Queen was not an option if Oliver and Roy were anything to judge by. Thea sat on Oliver's plush sofa, directing Felicity to the chair opposite it. With no other option, and her curiosity peaked, Felicity followed Thea's command.

"What can I do for you?" Felicity attempted to sound business-like.  
"Drop the act. I know you and Ollie are friends, really good friends. And you can't do anything for me, because you already have. Ollie told me last night about Merlyn, because of you. I came to see you to thank you, so thank you."  
"Why are you thanking me?" Felicity feigned ignorance.   
"I already said drop the act Felicity. You just confirmed my guess by lacking any confusion at my mention of Merlyn."   
"Say I did know, and I'm not saying I do. Your thank you still doesn't make sense. _I_ didn't do anything."   
"Ollie said that a _friend_ found out the truth a couple weeks ago, and that this _friend_ tried to get our mother to tell us the truth. When our mother wouldn't, the _friend_ told Ollie, and then convinced him to tell me. I think we both know who that _friend_ is, considering you and Diggle are like, his only friends. Why you didn't convince him to tell me weeks ago..."  
"He thought he was protecting your feelings," Felicity interrupted.

That threw Thea into a rant which rivaled some of Felicity's best. She listened to Oliver's little sister sound wiser than anyone her age should. Her cursing slowed to acceptance after a few minutes.

"I get where he was coming from. If Dad wasn't his dad, I'm not sure how I'd tell him that either."  
"I'm happy to hear you were able to put your feet in his shoes. Where's your stance on your mother?"   
"I'll need to talk with her about her reasons, and make a decision from there."

Felicity was relieved. As much as Moira wasn't her favourite person, she didn't deserve both her children turning against her for making a mistake.

"Speedy?"

The two of them turned to see Oliver walking into his office, his face lighting up at the sight of Thea. Felicity pulled out her always-handy tablet, and quickly rearranged Oliver's schedule so the siblings could have a chance to talk.

"Mr. Queen, your eleven o'clock has been moved to this afternoon, so you have an hour before your lunch meeting. Do you need anything else?" Felicity used her EA voice, and stood to excuse herself from the family bonding moment.

"No Ms. Smoak, that will be all," he replied just as formally. He kept up the facade until she walked by, when he patted her arm and whispered "thank you".   
"Ugh, you two are so obvious," Thea muttered, before addressing Felicity, "Like I said, it wasn't hard to figure out who Ollie's _friend_ was. Come on brother, let's go get a latte. I'll make sure Ollie brings you something good back!" She promised, hugging a stunned Felicity and tugging Oliver towards the executive elevator.

It wasn't until Felicity was seated back at her desk, and focused on her work, that her skin stopped tingling from Oliver's touch.

*

At quarter to five, Steve walked into QC, looking completely out of place. He planned on wearing his only three-piece suit, but was talked into stiff, dark denims and a tight, knitted pullover by none other than Natasha. Steve refused her advice at first, forcing Natasha to phone in Agent Hill for a second opinion. The ladies won this round, and Steve was none to happy about it. Even less so once he walked into the office building, sticking out like a sore thumb.

"I'm here to see Ms. Felicity Smoak." He passed his photo identification card to the elderly security guard, who handed it back to him almost immediately with another plastic rectangle.  
"She's pretty excited about this date. Wouldn't stop talking about it this mornin' when she arrived," he explained. "She's a great girl, that one, always smiling. You just need to insert the card into elevator twelve and take it up to the E floor."

He nodded thanks, and went in search of elevator number twelve. Steve was grateful for the well-labelled lobby, but not so grateful when a slim, disagreeable woman followed him into the metal box and questioned him rather rudely.

"Who are you?" she demanded.  
"Steve Rogers, ma'am."   
"That doesn't tell me what I want to know," she stared him down.  
"Then you should have asked a different question," he stared right back.

Thankfully, the elevator ride was short, so there wasn't time for any further interrogation.

"After you," Steve gestured for her to go first, and, when he told this story to Felicity at dinner, he wasn't exaggerating when said the woman quite literally snarled in response.  

"Ms. Smoak," the woman spat, "You need to better arrange Mr. Queen's appointments. I can't have Oliver's frat house friends," she pointed at Steve, "taking up valuable QC time. As you well know, five o'clock is _my_ time with Oliver."

Steve gave Felicity a small wave and an uncomfortable smile from behind the angry woman's back. He was pleased to see that Felicity was trying not to smirk.

"Ms. Rochev, Steve is here for me, not for Mr. Queen. He is waiting for you in the conference room, just as he is every weekday at five o'clock."

Felicity turned away from Steve and Isabel to pick up her purse, then walked straight for him, taking his face in her hands and kissing him sweetly on the lips.

"Hi," she said.  
"Hi."

Steve ignored the angry lady's scowl and placed Felicity's arm through the loop he made with his, smiling fully down at her, impressed with Felicity's ability to deal with such a irksome colleague. Felicity slumped into him once the elevator doors closed.

"Sorry about her," she sighed.   
"What do you mean? She was a delight," Steve deadpanned, and then promptly changed the subject to something less grim. "Excited for dancing tonight?"  
Felicity poked Steve in the ribs. "As long as you don't mind two left feet," she laughed, and he followed suit.

Although Steve knew that Felicity liked to wear dresses at the office (he'd seen her come home from work a few times by now), that slipped his mind when he took his bike to pick her up.

"Um," he scratched at his jaw, "I brought my bike." It was a lame thing to say, since they were currently standing directly beside his motorcycle.   
"Fun. I haven't been on a bike for years! Since high school actually."

There were two emotions that struck him by Felicity's reaction. First, was non-surprise. Her non-issue with the bike made sense. She was, after all, a girl with a bar in her ear and with wild colours on her nails. Second, was extreme surprise. He knew from the hospital that Oliver had a motorcycle, and he assumed that she would have travelled with him on it at least once or twice.

"You sure? Your dress..."   
"It'll be fine Steve. It's a nice full skirt, and I can sit on it and tuck it under, and it's fine." She patted his shoulder and told him to sit, cozying up behind him and situating the fabric of her skirt under and around her thighs.   
"I'm ready," she hollered over the roar of the bike. Steve's stomach erupted with butterflies when Felicity moved to grip around his middle. As if sensing his nerves, she smoothed her hand over his stomach and tucked her head against his back. She squeezed him once before murmuring, "Hurry up Steve, I'm hungry."

*

From the conference room on the top floor of QC, Oliver watched Felicity speed off into Starling City on the back of motorcycle, in a dress, with no helmet. The pen he was holding snapped, ink pouring on the non-existent notes he was taking.

"Oliver!" Isabel chastised.   
"Are we done here?"  
"No, we are not. You and I still have to make a determination on S.T.A.R. Labs proposal and the equipment request from the Applied Sciences division."   
"Fine."

For the rest of the meeting, Oliver was unfocused. He tried to listen to Isabel's lists of pros and cons and whys and why nots, but with every few words his mind would go back to seeing Felicity and Steve in her apartment, or Felicity on that damn bike. He could have offered her a ride dozens of times, and felt her arms around his waist. He hadn't at the time, knowing that keeping the lid on his brewing feelings tended to be more difficult when they shared a close proximity. Now though, he just regretted it.

He picked up enough of what Isabel was saying to understand what she wanted to do, and it aligned with what Felicity's notes suggested, so after only 45 minutes of agony, he concluded his evening with Isabel on a rather high note, seeing as how they agreed for once.

"I heard you were looking for an apartment. Find anything?" She struck up the conversation casually as she shifted a couple papers from one folder to another. Oliver gave her the expression she was expecting, rather than the look of content he wanted, before answering her evenly.   
"I did. I actually took a look at your building, but went with a different option. It had a nicer bathroom," he shrugged, smiling internally at his own wit.

He was about to text Felicity with an update on the apartment-seeking-Isabel-plan, when he remembered that she and Steve were going dancing. He would be able to interrupt them when they got to Verdant, to inform her about Isabel's questioning, and maybe steal himself a dance while he was at it. _Yes_ , Oliver thought, _That's exactly what I'll do_.

However, Felicity and Steve did not show up to the club. When eleven o'clock rolled around, and he hadn't spotted them on the surveillance cameras, he finally gave up and asked Digg about it.

"You think Felicity's going to bring him here, on a Wednesday night, to dance? Seriously, Oliver, who do you think Felicity is? Some SCU undergrad?"  
"Where else would they go? This is a dance club. They went dancing."  
"They went to some jazz club, can't remember the name."

Oliver didn't believe Digg for one second. He remembered the name of this jazz club perfectly fine, he just wasn't going to tell Oliver where she was at. And instead of getting angry at Digg, he decided to go and get angry at some street criminals. At least that way his frustration would be put to good use.

*

This second date (she decided that dinner the night before wasn't included in the formal count) was one of the best dates Felicity had been on. The jazz club was worthy of its excellent reviews, with its low lighting and comfortable love seats and delicious drinks and yummy food and smooth band and busy dance floor. She couldn't wait to tell everyone she knew about it!  

And the best part? Steve could dance! Part way through her first glass of Merlot, Steve clasped her hand and led her to the already bustling dance floor. He took her waist, and moved her body into a position she associated with reality television's dancing competitions.

"Do you know what you're doing?"   
"This is going to sound pretty embarrassing, but I took lessons a little while ago, just to get the basics down."  
"Did an ex-girlfriend make you?"  
"What? No. Why do you think that?"   
"Typically men aren't the ones who initiate dancing lessons is all."

Steve chuckled, acknowledging that fact.

"I learned to dance because of a girl, so I suppose I could justify the lessons because of a woman." Felicity then learned about Steve's first real adult crush. Her name was Peggy, and he promised her they'd go dancing. Sadly, Peggy died before Steve got his chance.

"That's when I realized even if I had taken her out, I had no idea how to dance. So I enrolled in a couple classes. Didn't want to miss another opportunity to take a beautiful lady dancing."

Felicity nearly swooned right then and there. She couldn't wait to tell Sara the details of date number two, assuming an ex-assassin would find Steve's sincerity as swoon-worthy as she did. Somehow, Felicity doubted Sara would be all "awww" about Steve's adorableness, but that it would still bring a smile to her new friend's otherwise stoic face. And that smile was reason enough to tell her all about Steve's subtle compliments and dance floor skills.  

The night progressed, and Felicity and Steve alternated between slow dances on the floor and small bites at their reserved loveseat. The conversed while dancing:

"When did you know you wanted to do something with computers?"  
"Forever. Really, it was more like when I was four and my mother gave me one of those really old fashioned calculator style video games, you know, and I kept asking questions about how it worked and why it worked the way it did. Everything just snowballed from there."

And they talked while sipping wine and nibbling on fancy appetizers:

"Did you join the military because of your parents?"  
"It was part of the reason. The bigger part was that it was the right thing to do. A way that I could help people, help my country, help my friends who also signed up."

And, when dinner and dancing was finished, they chatted on their walk back to Steve's bike:

"Did you ever have any pets growing up?"  
"I didn't. I always kind of wanted a dog, but I was allergic when I was younger and my schedule's been a little hectic since then. I didn't think with the travelling it would be fair."  
"What with that classified career of yours and all?"  
"Exactly," he grinned, clearly pleased that Felicity was handling his covert job so easily. "What about you? Pets?"  
"I had a turtle named Einstein when I was a kid. Like you, dogs and cats sometimes can make me pretty sneezy. I've debated on getting another turtle, or a fish even, but things with Einstein didn't end well so...I haven't."

Then Felicity jumped into a long winded story about how her cousin Jacob was visiting for a week when they were nine, and how he kept stealing Einstein to sleep in the guest room but left the window open and it got to cold and the little shell covers she learned to knit couldn't keep him warm enough. So he got sick, and didn't make it.

One block before they got to Steve's bike, and just as Felicity concluded her Einstein story, stating that she may have put Jacob on a couple pet-store watch lists, a large man slunk from the shadows.

"Gimme the purse," the man snarled.   
"Just keep walking," Steve warned, his demeanor switching from relaxed to alert.   
"Steve," Felicity whispered, "It's okay. It's fine."

She repeated that mantra over and over, knowing that the I'm-in-danger part of her brain, chanting its usual _Oliver will be here any minute_ , waswrong. Oliver wasn't with her in this moment. She wasn't on an assignment for Team Arrow, she was on a date. A non-Oliver date. So she did the only thing she could-- she started to take her purse from her shoulder. She must have taken too long, because that's when the mugger pulled a knife.

"Now, Barbie," he threatened, taking a step closer. 

Faster than Felicity imagined possible, Steve pushed her behind him, disarmed the mugger, and then slammed him into the ground. Felicity stood there, stunned, not exactly positive as to how the situation seemingly resolved itself.

"Felicity? Felicity? Are you hurt? Felicity?"   
"No, no, no. I'm okay. How did you..."  
"Military training. We need to phone the police."  
"Right. Right. I can do that."

She dialed Detective Lance, Officer Lance, rather than 911. The mugger was pretty incapacitated, Felicity judged, so she didn't feel right plugging up the emergency system. Then again, even if the mugger was perfectly okay, it seemed that Steve was fully capable of keeping them both safe if he was to try anything else.

After talking with Lance, and him promising he'd be there in ten minutes with a unit, Felicity eyed Steve. His military explanation made perfect sense, but there was something else there. She watched Oliver and Digg go at it enough to know that Digg could hold his own, but Steve's speed was on another level. His classified military work suddenly seemed a lot more plausible. And there was something about knowing that which made her less afraid about dating him with the ever-lurking Slade problem. She fully accepted that her conclusion made zero sense (since Steve's ability to take down a mugger hardly meant that he couldn't be crushed by super strength Slade), but in that moment, she didn't care.

*

Steve wasn't sure of the relationship between Felicity and the older police officer. She had not phoned emergency services, choosing to contact this man directly. However, when he shook the man's hand, introducing himself, it all became clear.

"Sara's father?" he asked the officer.  
"Yeah. You've met my daughter?"  
"A couple times, through Felicity."   
"Well, son, I'm glad you were with her tonight. Sometimes that girl is careless. I blame it on her always being surrounded by damn superheroes."  
"Superheroes?"

Officer Lance cleared his throat awkwardly as Felicity approached and took Steve's hand, forcing him to look away from the policeman and down at her.

"Statement's given," she told him. "Let's go home. Thanks Detective Lance."   
"Officer, darling."  
"Like I said, you'll always be Detective to me."

Steve was confused by their exchange, about why she'd call him a detective when he wasn't, and he definitely didn't understand the officer's superhero comment. But the mystery wouldn't be solved that evening, for the bike kept their conversation at bay and Felicity had plans other than talking when they arrived back at their townhouse complex.  

*

Watching Steve so instinctively protect her, and so easily neutralize the mugger, sent heat straight to Felicity's core. That, combined with her illogical Slade's-not-a-concern-because-Steve-can-handle-himself theory, urged her to seek the best form of relief.

Needless to say, when he walked her to her door, she pulled in him inside and didn't let him go.

"I want you," she boldly said, pulling off his pullover before going after his belt and deftly unbuckling it.

She commandeered his lips, forcing them open with her tongue and tasting him, his hand gripping her hip tightly in reaction. Felicity purred, lifting herself up to wrap around him just as she had the first time they kissed. This time though, his hands were on her bare skin, seizing her thighs just underneath the hem of her dress.

Felicity shivered at the contact. She wrapped one arm around his neck, gripping tightly to hold herself in place as she dragged her other hand's fingertips down Steve's arm. He shifted slightly, intertwining his now free hand with hers. This was exactly what Felicity wanted, and she moved their hands towards her center. When they hit the edge of her panties, she felt Steve tense.

"Do you want me?" Felicity questioned, pulling back and suddenly very unsure of her plans.

*

Steve may have limited field experience with actual women, but he knew exactly what Felicity was after. And although Steve wasn't prepared to have sex with her on their second date, he considered it ungentlemanly to refuse Felicity's unspoken request. Plus, he may not have been prepared, but God, he wanted her too.

"I do want you," he whispered into her ear, pulling her back towards his body. Hoping that he wouldn't be too awkward, he traced the edge of her panties with his thumb. She extradited her hand from beneath her dress, moving it to the shirt he wore under his sweater and slowly popping each button, kissing the new patches of skin she exposed. His heart pounded, threatening to break open his ribs, as Felicity scraped a nail over his nipple before taking it in her mouth.

Gradually, Steve moved his hand underneath Felicity's panties, splaying his hand flat against her lower abdomen and testing Felicity's reaction to the smallest of movements. When he turned his hand south and pressed his fingers on either side of her clit, Felicity moaned deeply and unapologetically ripped open the last few buttons of his shirt.

Steve tested out that particular move a few more times, causing Felicity to squirm and push into his hand.

"Harder?" he wondered aloud, hoping for some direction as to what she wanted.   
"Mmmm, down first." He moved his hand down, along her slick valley, provoking a gasp from Felicity. "I meant down, floor," she panted, her leg twitching against his hip.  
"Oh!" Steve removed his hand immediately, put her down, and stepped away from her, afraid he read the whole situation wrong.

Of course, Felicity quickly changed his mind, flipping up her skirt and peeling off her bright blue panties. She closed the distance, peppery his bare chest with kisses and stripping him of his shirt, and, when she seemed satisfied that he got the message, she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

*

Felicity waited for Steve to make the next move once they were standing next to her bed. She was itching to reach out and touch him, so the pause was kind of killing her, but she didn't want him to feel pressured into doing something he wasn't ready for. He gave her a shy smile, then kissed her hard before tickling her neck with his tongue and moving them towards her bed. She sat first, and shuffled towards her headboard, careful to keep her knees closed.

In the living room, it seemed like a good idea to strip herself of her panties. Now that there was a real possibility he was going to get up close and personal _down there_ , Felicity was feeling less than confident. Steve didn't try to separate her legs though. He just crawled backwards with her, supporting his weight on his arms and keeping his legs off to one side.

They spent a while just kissing, varying between soft and sweet, and intense and feral. It didn't take long for Felicity's dress to ride up, and for Steve's hands to find her bare thighs. He spent time kneading and stroking her upper thighs and bum, his hands moving steadily upwards, eventually finding the curve between thigh and vagina. Without thought, Felicity opened her legs enough for Steve to move in between them.

He circled the area thoughtfully, never entering her or engaging her clit, just moving up along her lower abdomen and then back down along the inside of her thigh. Felicity knew she was wet, it was impossible not to feel it. As much as she wanted to come, she wasn't ready to give up Steve's roaming hands yet.

She wasn't sure how long he continued the motions. Her arousal mounted and she wriggled around the bed as Steve moved closer and closer to her clit, increasing the pressure the nearer his fingers got. When he brushed over it, ever so faintly, and then slid a finger into her, she cried out for more.

And Steve obliged, sliding another finger into Felicity and massaging her clit with his thumb. Felicity's toes curled up, her hips convulsed, and she began to call out his name, and an unconscious stream of nonsense, which Steve muffled as his lips pressed into hers.

Felicity's heart took only moments to settle down after her orgasm, and, when it did, she was on him, unbuttoning and un-zippering his denims.

*

Felicity had gotten Steve's pants around his ankles and was going for the boxers before he even realized what was happening. He curled his hands around her wrists, stopping her. He needed to be honest before this went any further.

Tony and Natasha had tried to convince Steve a long time ago that he needed a girlfriend. Not for love, but to understand how things worked in this world he woke up in. He refused on principle, deciding instead to read up on making love and watch videos to understand what he was supposed to do so he wouldn't look like an idiot when he finally found someone. He had kissed a few ladies, but Felicity's orgasm was his first. And whatever she was planning to do after his boxers were removed, well, it would be another first.

"I need to tell you something." She didn't move from her position much, only removing her hands from the elastic waistband of his shorts.   
"Do you have something?" she mumbled, biting her lip and blushing.  
"No. Do you?" he asked confused.  
"I wouldn't have let us get this far if I did Steve."

Felicity seemed a little cross at him returning her question. She went to shift off of him, but Steve steadied her by the waist.

"I wouldn't have either," he replied in kind, albeit less annoyed than Felicity. She took his hands then and looked mortified.  
"I'm sorry. That, it just...came out wrong. I didn't think you would have something, not really, not without telling me sooner at least. I just don't understand. And how could I, jumping to conclusions like a jerk. Sorry. What do you need to tell me?"  
"No sorry needed," he squeezed his fingers and took a deep breath. "I need you to know. I just, I haven't, I've never been...with a woman."  

Felicity stared at him, disbelieving.       

"Or a man," Steve tacked on when the silence stretched out.   
"How old are you?"  
"26." Steve didn't count the 70 years he spent frozen in the ice, so he didn't really consider that a lie.  
"Are you waiting for marriage?" Felicity again tried to move off him, but he held her still, racking his brain on how to explain this without giving up the truths he couldn't.   
"Before the military, I was pretty scrawny and found it hard to talk to women. I enlisted at 20. And I just haven't been able to really date with my schedule and I didn't want just anyone, as much as some friends tried to convince me of that. But Felicity, you aren't anyone. I really like you, and I just wanted you to know that I don't have experience, in case, just in case, I do something embarrassing."

Her smile was back for a second, before she leveled him again with a look of disbelief.

"How did you do that then?" she motioned to a wet spot on the bed beside him.   
"I read a lot," he shrugged, and Felicity laughed heartily before leaning over and hugging him.   
"Thank you for telling me."  
"You're welcome."  
"You'll be saying that again very soon," she winked.

*

Felicity went back to her previous tasks of alleviating Steve from the burden of his boxers, a little more nervous than she was during her first attempt. She had never been somebody's first, considering she went to university so young. She was her first boyfriend's third relationship, and her second boyfriend's up-teenth, knowing him. And after that, all she had experienced in the bedroom were random, tequila-induced flings.

She decided, very quickly, that his first time wouldn't be tonight. It was a big decision, and she highly doubted he planned on even going this far with her so quickly. She wanted him to be sure, so, instead of sex-sex, she would give him something else to thank her for.

Removing her hands from the elastic of his shorts, she move up his chest, worshipping each muscular cut and dip with her hands, nails, lips, and tongue. Beneath her chest, she could feel Steve grow harder with each kiss and lick and bite. Felicity tucked her fingertips under his boxers once again, tracing the line where the fabric met his skin. She smiled up at Steve when he inhaled sharply, and proceeded to inch his boxers down his legs, ultimately meeting the same fate as his pants.

She kissed her way down his legs, then back up, grasping his hard shaft in her small hand and pumping, once, twice, three times, all the while massaging one of his balls in her mouth. Glancing up at him with hooded eyes, she asked if he liked that. A fervent moan told her everything she needed to know. She repeated the strokes, paying attention to Steve's other ball, before pausing again, hoping that it would stave off Steve's release for a little while.

*

Steve was thinking terrible thoughts. Being punched in the kidney in an alley. A girl he liked laughing hysterically at his request for a date. The rancid smell of the battle fields. The pain of losing his comrades.  

Anything to help him not explode.

Felicity was undoing him, and quickly. He thought her hands felt good around him, but when she encased him with those beautiful lips, everything bad in his life fell away. He finally was starting to understand why Tony and Natasha had encouraged him to date so much.

It didn't take long once Felicity started teasing him with her mouth. Steve knew he was losing control. His body stiffened, balls tightening and fists clenching Felicity's deep purple sheets. He managed to warn Felicity that he was coming (he read that it was only polite), not that it stopped her motions.

A second later, he was done for.

*

Felicity took it all in, knowing that men often enjoyed that and wanting to give Steve every man's dream. Plus, she didn't really mind it herself, and Steve tasted so good that she licked him clean, enjoying the small tremors that coursed through his body. When he calmed, she crawled up him and cuddled into his side, much like she did the first night they laid in her bed.

Smirking, she couldn't help but ask, "So, does that deserve a thank you?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have two questions for the readership: 
> 
> 1) Because I don't really write erotica as part of my fiction writing hobby, I looked up some how-tos on the glorious internet. It suggested that erotica is usually written from a single point of view, usually the females. How are you all feeling about the switch in view point? Generally, that's also not something I do (I'm a big first person fan), but I wanted to bring in a couple different POVs.
> 
> 2) I had a commenter suggest that I poll the readership for where they're falling on the Steve vs. Oliver front. So, who do you prefer for Felicity? Steve, or Oliver?


	5. The Rest of the Week

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has to leave Starling for a top secret emergency, and the rest of Felicity's week is anything but great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my short hiatus. I had a week-long vacation, where I had originally planned on getting lots of writing down. Alas, gatherings and shin-digs and get-togethers trumped that. On top of it, this chapter kind of came out of no where and is more of a bonus feature than anything featuring our star couple (that being Steve & Felicity...don't believe me? Check out this new ships support in the comments. Steve was our clear poll winner). 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading.

The rest of Felicity's week did not measure up to the first half. It started going downhill on Thursday morning, when a very early call interrupted her snuggles with Steve. Felicity expected it to be Oliver or Diggle, but, to her surprise, it was Steve's phone that was ringing. He spent a single minute on the line, before giving her a swift kiss on the cheek and a very unsatisfactory excuse for leaving the warmth of her bed.

 Apparently, there was a top secret emergency, somewhere far away. To make matters worse, his trip came with no specified return date.

She had followed through on her promise to dig into Steve's work, but whoever this elite government military team was had an elite IT expert as well. She quickly typed the new details (departure date and time) into her search parameters, before checking in on her other research project.

Her mood went from bad to worse when there was nothing new on the Slade-Isabel front. Huffing from frustration, she got ready for work and headed to QC, with a temper that not even new shoes could improve.

Oliver's crabbiness didn't help things, and, as Felicity wasn't in the right frame of mind to deal with it, she sulked at her desk, while he sulked at his. Their only encounter occurred around lunch, when Lance showed up unannounced.

"Miss. Smoak, how are you doing today?" He addressed her.   
"I'm fine, Detective--Officer Lance. Thanks. What can I do for you?"

It was at this point that Oliver appeared in his doorway, probably expecting that Lance had come to see him. Immediately, Felicity regretted not saying anything about the mugging. She knew, before Lance even mentioned it, that this was only going to make her day worse.

"I just stopped by to let you know that the mugger from last night--"  
"Mugger? You were mugged? Are you okay? What happened?"  
"Yes. If I wasn't okay, I wouldn't have been here, at my desk, an hour and half before you, like always, and what happened is a mugger tried to take my purse. Steve was there and saved the day."   
"That he did. As I was saying--"  
"But you weren't injured? And what do you mean he saved the day?"

Felicity promptly ignored Oliver's badgering. She already told him she was fine, and her statement regarding Steve seemed perfectly clear to her.

"As you were saying?" She directed her question, and her focus, at Lance.  
"I wanted to inform you that there was a full confession, so with your statements and that, we won't need you to attend the court date. If you'd like to, or can arrange it, it's next Wednesday at ten."

Felicity typed that quickly into her calendar and thanked Lance once more. Oliver stood there, staring, his eyes narrowing. As the elevator doors closed, Oliver cautiously approached her desk.

"Why didn't you tell me?"  
"For starters, this is the longest conversation we've had all morning. You are super cranky and I'm not in a great mood either, so I don't want to deal with whatever arrow you have up your ass. And secondly, it was a plain, run-of-the-mill mugging that is completely unrelated to either of my relationships with you. Not that we're in a relationship," she clarified. "Plus, I wasn't hurt. Steve disarmed the mugger and then Officer Lance arrested him, so really there was nothing to tell."    
"Arrows up my ass?" Oliver smirked.

When Felicity didn't return his version of a smile, instead glaring at him, Oliver's smirk faltered.

"I'm just glad you're okay," he said softly, making a move to touch her and then reconsidering. He gave a single nod before walking back to his desk, where Isabel found him ten minutes later and reamed him out on a file he was supposed to sign and submit the night before.

The office mood went back to icy after that.

*

Diggle, who was having a perfectly okay day, avoided them both until they reached the foundry. Oliver disappeared to the training area, presumably to attack several training dummies and kill several tennis balls. Felicity nearly ran to her computers, slamming the keys a little harder than usual. Knowing something was up, and that trying to get information out Oliver was like talking to a wall, he pulled up a chair next to Felicity.

"Felicity, you okay?" he nudged her, giving her that look that told her he already knew she wasn't okay, so she should just fess up already. With a heavy exhale, she launched into the story of her great date and the not-so-successful attempt on her purse, and then about how Steve had to leave town, and how she didn't know when he'd be back. Her personal life wasn't the only splinter in her finger, so she also ranted about how the Isabel-Slade riddle was eating away at her soul.

He wasn't happy to hear about the mugging, though glad she was dating someone who could clearly take care of himself and her. He liked this Steve guy more and more. And he could tell Felicity did too. Oliver appeared to be the only one of their group not on board.

"I can't help with the missing boyfriend, but maybe fresh eyes will help on the bad guy problem. How about we go over everything together? With milkshakes," Diggle added as an afterthought, knowing it would cheer up his girl. "I'll go pick them up. Vanilla?"  
"You are a perfect man John Diggle."   
"I know."

*

Sara, Oliver, and Roy were out by the time Diggle returned, so it was just the two of them indulging in vanilla milkshake deliciousness. While Digg was out, Felicity pulled up the digital police board she started the previous weekend, and began shuffling through the details once again.

Diggle was right, his fresh eyes helping to see things Felicity hadn't. He suggested that Isabel may have her own vendetta against Oliver, or the Queens, and that it was possible she was working with Slade to fulfill her own agenda. It made sense, what with Moira's dislike of Isabel. Felicity knew, from experience, that if Moira wasn't disinterested in a person, she had her reasons. So, without a doubt, Isabel earned Moira's dislike by crossing one of her arbitrary lines. Or, as the search indicated, a not-so arbitrary line.

Apparently Isabel and Mr. Queen had known each other. Intimately.

She was halfway through her milkshake, and partway through Robert Queen's life, when the others showed up, not physically worse for wear, but emotionally.

"Roy. Roy! ROY!" Oliver bellowed. "We need to talk." He slammed his bow onto a table, Sara stormed off in the direction of the bathroom, and Roy, looking furious, punched his fist through one of Oliver's training dummies. Diggle and Felicity, having no idea what was happening, elected to stay silent.

"What? What Oliver? I lost control. I know. You made that abundantly clear," Roy spat, holding up a bloody hand with a puncture wound in the centre. Felicity jumped from her chair for the med kit, ignoring that Roy would heal without any tending, while Diggle hovered between them, prepared to intervene if necessary.

All was quiet for a while, as Felicity cleaned up Roy's hand and Oliver changed out of his leathers. Felicity tried to be soothing, being extra gentle and sisterly with Roy, squeezing his knee and giving him a big hug when Oliver came back in sweats.

"Can we talk now?"

Roy nodded, and Diggle and Felicity let them be, returning to their brainstorming and history search with Sara's help. Granted, the lair wasn't the type of place you could hold personal conversations, so they all knew what Oliver asked of Roy, and what he accepted to do. With heavy feet, Roy ascended to Verdant to end his relationship with Thea.

The break-up weighed heavily on Oliver the next day, and even though the sun shone outside their glass walls, inside was nothing but gloom. Felicity ended up getting him not one, but two coffees, both which coaxed a very small smile from his lips.

"Maybe I could start looking into a cure for Roy," Felicity suggested when she set down the first cup of coffee. "I'm not great with biochemistry. Not bad either..."   
"He kissed another girl Felicity."  
"That doesn't mean Thea won't forgive him."  
"Yes, Felicity, it does. Thea saw, first hand might I add, what forgiving a cheating bastard does. She's not going to end up like Laurel."

She decided to get him a refill after that conversation, knowing that Oliver wasn't only feeling guilt over his sister and Roy, but also over his past grievances. It was just that kind of day, the type of day you relive your mistakes, focus on your faults, and whoop it up at the self-pity party.

It was only natural that the day culminated with some violence. During Roy and Thea's break-up, she told him about Oliver sharing a big secret with her, hoping it would convince Roy that she could handle whatever he was keeping bottled up.

Understandably, Roy did not take Oliver's do-what-I-say-not-as-I-do mentality very well.

They'd been at the foundry for an hour when Roy stormed in, nearly breaking the metal staircase as he barrelled down them.

"Why? Why can you tell Thea whatever shit you feel like sharing, but I can't? How is keeping this," he broke a corner of one of the concrete pillars, "protecting her? What's the difference between what you told her, and what I want to share?" Roy's voice grew louder with each question. "Why!" he yelled, slamming his fists into one of the metal tables, forever denting it.   
"Roy, control," Oliver preached, his words obviously falling on deaf ears. When Oliver tried to reason, "Telling Thea was not an easy decision," Roy snapped, flipping the table.

That's when Felicity approached him, telling Roy that it was her fault, that she was the one who told Oliver that he needed to inform Thea about the secret. Neither Felicity, or Oliver, explained to him, or Diggle, what the secret was about. What she did explain was her suspicion that Slade would use this secret and the knowledge that came with it against the team and against the Queens.

"If you're going to blame someone for telling Thea what Oliver told her, blame me."  
"Fine!" he screamed at her, his massive hands pushing into her small frame, sending her halfway across the foundry where she landed hard on a heap of training mats. Shock prevented Felicity from fully realizing what happened, realizing the pain of Roy attacking her like that. When she finally came around, both Diggle and Oliver were engaged in a struggle with Roy, and Sara was coming down the stairs hurriedly, ready to join in.

"STOP!" Felicity used her loud voice, gingerly picking herself off the mats. All four of her vigilantes stopped brawling and stared at her, and, after a pause, they all started talking at once.

"Are you alright Felicity?"   
"Blondie, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean..."  
"Why are you on the mats? And why are we beating up Roy anyway?"  
"This is why you needed to break up with Thea. Your control--"

Roy's glare at Oliver cut him off, and without another word, he left the foundry. Diggle gave Felicity a once over, and she obliged, but kept her eyes on Oliver and Sara who were having a hushed conversation by the stairs. Felicity simply assumed he was explaining the situation she walked in on, though the reasons for whispering that seemed a little odd.

Seeing as it was a Friday night, and Sara was Verdant's bartender, she couldn't stay in the basement for very long.

"I'll grab you tomorrow," she told Felicity, making her way upstairs to Verdant for her shift.  
"Sounds good," Felicity grimaced, the physical pain from being thrown across a room settling in. It was lucky the fall didn't damage her cast. She wasn't sure she would want to deal with a hospital when her body was likely to be covered in partially formed bruises.

Suddenly, she was thankful Steve was out of town. She wouldn't really know how to explain the marks Roy inevitably left on her shoulders.

"What were you thinking?" Oliver admonished her, but softly, sadly. "You could have been really hurt Felicity. More hurt."   
"Oliver's right," Diggle said immediately, knowing Felicity well enough to recognize when she was going to fight back. Her shoulders slumped a little, and with sorrow, she nodded.  
"I didn't think Roy would hurt me."  
"Now you know better," Oliver said with a frown, his eyes slightly glazed over.

Part of Felicity's heart lurched for him. She observed that faraway stare of his before, and, with the situation at hand, his memory was likely Slade and Mirakuru related. As much as she wanted to ask, she didn't question him, as much as she wondered if he'd felt that same way about Slade once upon a time.

It didn't take long for Oliver to banish Felicity from the foundry, demanding she go home and rest.

"Are you sure? I won't be here tomorrow, so if there's anything you want, now is the time to ask."

*

Felicity didn't notice the way Oliver's jaw clenched at her words. There was, in fact, something he wanted. Desperately. He wanted to go home with her, to take care of her, to be with her. But he wasn't going to ask her for that--ever. Just as Roy so eloquently demonstrated earlier in the night, her life with him wasn't safe. And since he couldn't turn back time, it was better that they stay status-quo.

If Oliver could turn back time, he liked to think he wouldn't have introduced Felicity into this life. But the part of him that could tell his lies from his truths knew that he was too selfish to let her go entirely. What he wouldn't do, couldn't do, was involve her in any more aspects of his life. The risk to Felicity if she were something more to him was just too great.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Diggle asked her. It was the question Oliver wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer. It probably involved Steve, and, as much as he was happy to see her happy, he really didn't want to hear about their dating life.   
"Girls night. I'm going to get some dirt on _Ollie_ ," she used his nickname with disdain, "because I'm hanging out with his baby sister, ex-girlfriend, and current girlfriend. And from what little I know about girls' nights, boys are usually the topic on hand."    
"We promise not to call," Diggle smiled, and shooed her up the stairs. When the door closed, he stared down Oliver. "You haven't told her yet?"  
"Told who what?"  
"Don't be an idiot. Why haven't you told Felicity that you and Sara broke up?"  
"It just hasn't come up."  
"Well, you might want it to before tomorrow, seeing as how she's going to find out, probably at this girls night, and you and I both know Felicity does not like surprises, especially of the Oliver relationship kind."

Oliver knew Diggle was right. The man, aggravatingly, always was.

Three hours later, he found himself at Felicity's door, bottle of wine, box of Thai, and container of ice cream in hand. Diggle informed him that Steve was out of town, which was the only reason he was standing at her door.

He could hear her walking towards him, and was pleased that she looked through her door's peephole before opening it. 

"Oliver? What's going on?"  
"I brought you presents," he held up the food and beverage choices, and, with a big smile, she let him in. Though it was one of his first official visits to her place, he made himself at home, slipping off his shoes and heading to her kitchen to stow the ice cream and open the wine.    
"So what's actually going on? I know I was grouchy Felicity today, so is this a cheer-up thing? A guilt thing for thinking grouchy Felicity is your fault? Or a guilt thing about Roy? Because you do that. You think everything is your fault. What you don't do is bring me presents just 'cause."  
"I do so."  
"When?" She tilted her head, much like the first time they met, and it sent a jolt to Oliver's heart. She was beautiful, and he would never be able to tell her that in anything more than a plutonic capacity. She was with someone, someone good for her, and that was something he couldn't compete with.

Oliver didn't answer her for a little while. Instead he busied himself getting two plates and serving up the Thai food, pouring two glasses of wine, and settling down on one end of her sofa. He finished half his food before saying a word.

"Sara and I broke up."  
"What? Oliver, I'm so sorry. How are you? How is Sara? I should call her..." Felicity moved to her phone, then stopped. "No, wait. Sorry. I'm sorry. You're both my friends. You're here, so I'll comfort you first, and then I'll call Sara later and comfort her, and then we'll figure out how we can still make the team work and it'll all be fine. Right? You didn't cheat on her did you...Laurel?"

If someone else had asked him that, Oliver would have been insulted and defensive. But with Felicity, he was reflective. She still thought he had feelings for Laurel. _In love_ feelings, as opposed to just love of the friendship kind. And how couldn't she think that? He had never really told her about how him and Laurel ended things. Nor why he started dating Sara.

Before Oliver could tell her any of that, even a short "no", Felicity kept rambling.

"No. Ignore that. Of course you didn't sleep with Laurel while dating Sara. That was a thought I shouldn't have had and definitely shouldn't have said. I just, well, you know. My ailment." She rolled her eyes. "So, back to the point: are you okay?"  
"Yes Felicity, I am okay. And Sara is too. We broke up last Saturday, after the gala."  
"You've been broken up for a week!" Felicity screamed. "How? What? Why?"  
"Sara initiated it, and she was right. We're just not--" Oliver searched for the right turn of phrase "--We aren't meant for each other. Both of us feel like something is missing. Sara wants to find the person that she is meant to be with, that makes her whole."

Oliver didn't dare say the next part, the part that admitted he already knew who made him whole and that person was sitting beside him at that very moment.

"And the reason we didn't make a big deal is because it isn't. I honestly thought she might have said something to you, and explained it, but then when you said my girlfriend would be at girls night, Diggle reminded me that you must not know."

Felicity stared at Oliver, processing his words. He knew that his track record with relationships wasn't something she comprehended easily, and he understood that. There was the undertone of Laurel in everything, and everyone, he did. There was his mistake entrusting Helena with his secret. There was his one-nighter with Isabel. And there was his relationship with Sara, which just happened to negate Oliver's previous justification regarding Isabel. He was a mess when it came to women, and he wanted so much more than himself for Felicity. She deserved someone great, not someone like him.

"This calls for ice cream."  
"I'm fine, Felicity. Really."  
"Doesn't matter. Break-up rules require ice cream. And romantic comedies. Since you're a guy, I'm thinking an action flick instead. Or a thriller?"

And that's how Oliver spent his first night with Felicity. Curled up on her couch, watching Tom Cruise kick ass, and eating half a carton of ice cream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS. Thoughts on chapter five? I'm not super excited about it, or the next chapter, but then we get into a Slade-Steve encounter and follow that up with a little truth-telling.


	6. The First Fight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Steve does a little digging, Felicity uses her almost-loud voice. Will their relationship make it to the third date?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you everyone for the kind & constructive comments and kudos! I hope you enjoy this first fight...there are a few moments that will hopefully make you smile :)

Steve and Natasha were reviewing the mission details one more time. Steve was pretty chipper, and Natasha was eager to figure out why. The strut in his stride, which she spotted the moment he arrived at the hanger, could only be Felicity related, but the idea that Steve gave it up after two dates was a little unbelievable.  

"How was your date? You went dancing, if I remember?" She prodded.  
"It was really good. We went dancing at a great jazz club. Excellent food and music. Felicity really enjoyed it."

Steve smiled, presumably at the memory, and, without another word, went back to reading the mission's blueprints.

"Steve. Spill it."  
"I'm sorry?"  
"I can tell that something big happened, and you and I both know I'm going to find out. So tell me again, how was your date?"   
"After dancing, when we were walking back to the bike, Felicity and I were mugged. Attempted, really. I disarmed the guy, gently Nat, no cover blown, and used military training as an excuse for being able to take him down so easily. Felicity accepted that. The thing is, she knows the cops. Really well. Turns out one of the officers is her friend Sara's dad."  
"Then it makes sense why she would know them."   
"Yeah, it's just that this cop, Lance, he said something to me, and I can't shake it."

This information was hardly of interest to Natasha. A mugging was downright predictable, considering Starling City's statistics. What was interesting was Steve's avoidance of telling her anything that would account for the pep in his step. Knowing there was more to hear, she encouraged the conversation, if only to get to the suspected dirt.

"What did the officer say?"  
"That Felicity is involved with superheroes."   
"Top notch police work. She is very much involved with superheroes." At Steve's confused face, Natasha bumped him and laughed, "She's involved with you, Cap."  
"Natasha. This random cop has no idea who I am. And he used the plural form anyway. Not superhero, superheroes," Steve emphasized, very serious and concerned.

Natasha took out some device of Stark's creation, and started typing away. She hooked into the police server, which was quite simple. All she had to do was piggyback on an existing hack. She tried to trace that back with no success. Whoever hacked in originally was one of the best.

"Felicity Smoak was questioned a while ago because of her involvement with the Vigilante, The Hood, The Arrow. Seriously? This guy needs to stop switching names. I can't just wake up one day and decide not to be the Black Widow but the Stingin' Scorpion. Ridiculous," she muttered.  
"What? Questioned about that green leather guy?"  
"The very same. Says she was let go, no charges filed, and she hasn't been questioned since. The rumor is that this Arrow guy has a friend with blonde hair in black leather. Maybe your girl is one of those superheroes," Natasha mimicked his plural emphasis.  

Steve shook his head, and, though Natasha wasn't the pitying type, she did feel for Steve. He went to Starling City to try to escape the abnormality of his life, and try to get back to who he was before S.H.I.E.L.D. blended everything in his black and white world to grey. If he was dating a superhero vigilante, he was hardly getting what he wanted.

"I don't think Felicity is one of these vigilantes. She's too soft."  
"Soft?"  
"Yes."  
"Emotionally?"  
"Well, there's that. She teared up the other night because she stubbed her toe. But I meant her body. It's too soft."  
"Ah ha! I knew there was more to this second date story. Tell me everything."

And, as Natasha was pleased to tell all the Avengers later on that very night, her partner, Mr. Captain America himself, was finally blown into the 21st century.

*

Felicity was racked with multiple layers of guilt when she woke up, feet curled in Oliver's lap, his hand resting on her calf. Her initial guilty reaction, which made her feel even worse, was that she let Oliver sleep with his neck supported by only her smushy sofa's cushion, and that he would definitely have a super-kinky neck because of it. Her follow-up thought, which was that she could treat him to a massage, felt like that bullet all over again. Just this time, instead of it hitting her shoulder, it hit her gut and that little part of her heart that Steve was slowly taking ownership of. She began to silently reprimand herself.

Her feet shouldn't be in Oliver's lap.

She shouldn't be concerned about Oliver's neck.

And she most definitely shouldn't be thinking about giving said neck a rub down.

She was in a relationship. Not that Steve and her had talked about it being a "relationship". She kind of thought that if, by some chance, Steve didn't think that, they were well on their way. And Steve was a good man. A good man who did not deserve to have his girl thinking cutesy thoughts about her boss.

With a speed she didn't know she possessed, she removed her feet from Oliver's lap and quietly moved about her home, throwing away the evidence of their wine, Thai, and ice cream filled night. If she got rid of the physical evidence, she hoped the memory of how nice it had been to just _be_ with Oliver, and to see him relax, would disappear from the front of her mind.    

It didn't take long for Oliver to stir once Felicity got moving.

"Morning," she shifted uncomfortably. "Your neck is probably going to be sore."  
"Slept on worse," he shrugged.  
"You know, someday that's going to get old, this 'I've had worse' shrug you're so fond of."  
"I still think it's got a few years of use left," he grinned, standing and stretching, and, if Felicity didn't know better, putting on a show for her benefit. His body was magnificent, and though you could catch a glimmer of that through his t-shirt, you caught more than that when he raised his arms over his head.

Felicity turned around, flustered, when she started picturing her tongue tracing the lines of the 'v' that dipped under the top of his jeans.

"Did you want to grab breakfast?" Oliver asked, forcing her to look at him again. Thankfully, his arms were back at his sides and the 'v' was no longer in sight.  
"Can't. I have a couple errands I need to run and then Sara's picking up me for girls night. Really, its girls afternoon and early evening, but the last person I want to get all correcty with is Laurel Lance."

Her rejection was based on a lie. Felicity had no errands to run, but she could make some up. Groceries, laundry, dry-cleaner, calling her friend overseas. Between being Oliver's CEO and the Arrow's IT expert, she didn't normally have the time to perform such random tasks when the weekend rolled around.

"Alright. I'll get out of your hair," Oliver straightened, forcing Felicity to shake off the crazy idea that he was somehow hurt by her refusal to eat breakfast with him. "Have a great time this afternoon and early evening. And thanks, for last night."

He placed a hand a top her shoulder, and for just a moment, Felicity let herself bask in the calm and safe energy that the tender pressure caused. When he released his hand, and headed out the door, she was left with nothing to do but stew in her guilt and pile together all her dresses for a much needed dry-cleaning.

*

Oliver didn't want to leave Felicity's apartment. Something happened while he'd slept. She had become tense, and he didn't know why. And that bugged him. He wanted Felicity to only ever be happy, and he could tell in those few minutes that morning that she was anxious, not at all content.

Had he said something in his sleep? Between Thea's parentage, the discovery of Isabel and his father's relationship, Slade's evil plan, Roy's disappearance, Sara's departure from his bed, and his no-longer boxed up feelings for Felicity, Oliver wouldn't be surprised if his mind took to working things out while he rested.

As he walked down the sidewalk towards his bike, he, for the first time since coming back from the island, seriously considered talking to someone. Someone who could help him move past the baggage that came with all of the problems at hand. Someone who could help him be a better man, one who didn't need to put his feelings for the woman he loved in a box labelled "you're not good enough for her", because he would finally be worthy of her.

The first person he called was Diggle.

"I'm happy you're thinking about this Oliver. I'll ask around, but in the meantime, how about you talk to me? That way you can skip asking Felicity to do the background checks. If I wanted to sell you out man, would've already cashed that in."   
"Foundry?"  
"Be there in 20."

*

Felicity's guilt waned late in the morning. Her sparkling clean bathroom, clothing-free floor, and freshly baked cookies improved her outlook. Her and Oliver were friends. Just friends. If she fell asleep with Diggle, in exactly Oliver's position, she likely would have thought the same things--that Digg's hand was warm and comforting on her leg, that Digg's neck was probably sore, that Digg deserved a neck massage and she was pretty good at neck massages.

She pushed down the little voice that told her she may have said the same things, thought the same things, but that the intention behind it all was very different. She was happy her phone rang, interrupting that little voice, and even happier when she saw the caller.

"Hello you. My searches haven't told me where you're hiding...yet. Do you know when you're getting back yet?"  
"Hi to you too. I think I should be back in two days. How are you?" Steve wondered.  
"Happy."

She talked all about those things she accomplished that morning, leaving out the part where she abated her guilt over her slumber party with Oliver. Then she mentioned what Lance told her about the mugging.

"I actually wanted to ask you something about that."   
"Sure...," Felicity warily replied. She couldn't put her finger on the feeling, but her instinct was telling her that Steve's question wasn't going to have an easy yes or no answer.   
"The officer who questioned us, he mentioned that you have superheroes, or that you hang out with them. And obviously I know there are those vigilantes in Starling. They're all over the paper."

_Damn Quentin Lance_ , Felicity cursed. She decided to be honest, sort-of.

"Well, the Arrow saved me from Count Vertigo a little while ago. I was at the office, and this Count guy showed up and kind of took me hostage--"  
"And then you started working for him, the Arrow?"  
"What?" _How did he know that I work with him?_ "No, of course not. Why would you say that?"   
"No reason. So you don't work with him?"  
"Why do you think I work with the vigilante?" She asked slowly, afraid of the answer.  
"This is going to sound bad," he pre-empted, sinking the sinking feeling in Felicity's stomach. "I may have mentioned the superhero comment to one of my colleagues and she may have looked into Starling City police records and your name may have come up as someone who was questioned about this Green guy."  
"The Arrow," Felicity corrected automatically, clapping her hand over her mouth.   
"Yes. Him," Steve responded distastefully.  
"You're right that this sounds bad. You're telling me that you researched me? By hacking the police database?" She said it with anger, and disbelief. When her mind thought, _who does that_ , she was even angrier. Felicity hated being a hypocrite, and in this very moment she was nothing but.      
" _I_ didn't," Steve emphasized. "My colleague just sort of did, without me knowing what was happening. And then she just told me. You know me, I wouldn't do that. I couldn't do that! I can't even program a phone number into my phone. I don't even know what hacking is, let alone how to do that."  
"You could have just asked."

Now it was Steve's turn to be upset.

"I did. A minute ago. And you haven't been honest. You've avoided the question. You've yet to tell me anything that explains the comment or your being question by the police."  
"You're the one who jumped to conclusions here Steve. You're the one who cut me off with the 'so you work with him' comment. Will you let me explain now?" Felicity's voice grew louder, edging towards her infamous loud voice.   
"Only if you're going to tell me the truth," he replied with a judgemental tone. It grated on Felicity's already frazzled nerves.    
"I was pulled in by police last year because of pure coincidence. Because I'm a hacker. It's a hobby. An illegal hobby. And Walter, the old CEO of QC, he had me looking into some things, which are confidential and completely un-vigilante related, and those things led me to Merlyn Global. The police, for some reason, thought that I was linked to the Arrow because of that."  
"I don't understand the connection."  
"Merlyn was responsible for the quake last year. Apparently, the Arrow told the police about Merlyn and they did some digging. Finding out that I hacked Merlyn Global already led them to believe that the Arrow knew because I told him. It's not how the Arrow knew," Felicity defended herself, "I couldn't even get in to the system for Walter."   
"It still doesn't explain Officer Lance's comment. Are you involved with this lunatic who just kills people he thinks are bad?"

Felicity bristled at Steve's insult to Oliver.

"So the man who held me at lethal injection point should have stabbed me? Because that was the only alternative Steve. I, like the majority of Starling City, according to recent polls, have no issue with the vigilantes. They have dropped the crime rate significantly. Sure, they don't always follow the rules, but they make things better. I don't know why Lance suggested the superhero connection. Maybe it's because he questioned me about Merlyn Global, or because of the recent hostage situation, or because there's this woman in black who protects other women from things like muggings. What I do know is that I don't think the Arrow is a lunatic who just kills people. And as someone who's ex- or a current or whatever you are military guy, you should be able to understand better than most that easy choices don't always exist. Right now though, I'm making a very easy choice. Good-bye."  
"Wait. Wait! Felicity?"

*

She didn't wait.

Steve stared at the phone, unsure of what to do. Normally, when he was uncertain, he would go to Natasha. She was his link to this new world, the one person that made the most sense to him. This time though, it was her investigating Felicity that caused their first fight.  

He knew that blaming Natasha was unfair. When he mentioned what was bugging him, it was a given that she would find out any and all information related to it. He just didn't think that his normal Felicity would be involved in anything dangerous. But now she admitted not only to accepting this hooded murderer, but to encountering him while being held as a hostage! Suddenly, that offhanded bullet comment she made didn't seem so out of place. _Had she really been shot_?

Normal people weren't taken hostage. Normal people didn't have bullet wounds. Normal people did what she spent her morning doing. They baked cookies. They did laundry. They cleaned their homes.

"Normal people Steve? Or normal women from your first stint as a 20-year old? Because baking, laundry, cleaning...all typical female traits from your era. You do realize we can vote now."  
"Women could vote in 1920 Natasha."  
"That's beside the point. Talk to me."

And he did. He told her everything.

"You should call her back and apologize. We both know you're sorry about it, but maybe she'll be able to understand you wanted someone that wasn't involved with violence. You do have a career that can be rough. She motioned to the faint cut on his cheek. Tell her you're just concerned that the vigilante is dangerous, and that you don't want that for her. Make sure to say that you respect whatever choice she makes though. She strikes me as the type of girl who wouldn't put up with anything less."  
"I don't want her to be involved in anything dangerous," Steve parroted.  
"Exactly. It'll be a sincere apology, which I hear is the best kind. Not that you could pull off any other type of apology."  
"Could you?"  
"Of course I could," she patted Steve on the arm, "You forget that lying is in my job description."

*

Sara arrived at Felicity's, expecting to find her blonde friend's usual happy-go-lucky self. Instead, she found her in tears.

"Felicity! What's wrong? Is everyone okay? Is it Slade?" Sara crouched beside her and scanned the living room for clues.   
"Yes...I'm...okay," Felicity said through sniffles and sobs. "No...Slade."   
"What is it?"

Sara pulled her into a hug, stroking her head and back softly. She couldn't imagine what was making Felicity cry like this. They sat there, embracing each other, until Felicity calmed.

"I should go fix my make-up," she told Sara, as if nothing had been out of place just minutes before. "It's probably pretty smudged. Then we can go."  
"Okay."

Sara thought she was good at compartmentalizing. Felicity, however, managed to outdo even her. It wasn't easy not to press Felicity for any more details, but Sara held her tongue, knowing that she would open up about whatever was bothering her when she was ready.

It was on their way to the spa when Felicity finally spoke.

"I have two things to talk about. The first is Oliver, who told me last night that you two broke up. The second is that I'm having a Steve problem. Which would you like to talk about first?"  
"The Steve problem," Sara responded, wanting to discuss anything but Oliver.   
"Okay. So, he found out I was taken in for questioning regarding my involvement with the Arrow. That happened before you came back, around the quake. Your dad questioned me because I tried to hack Merlyn Global, and so did the police, and they traced it back to me. And Steve found out. I didn't exactly lie to Steve when he asked me about it, I just glazed over some of the facts. Like the real reason I was digging into Merlyn Global. Because then he'd be fully aware that I am, in fact, involved with the Arrow. Not _involved._..but involved."   
"How did Steve find out about the questioning?"  
"That's the part that is pissing me off the most. It would be fine if I mentioned it in conversation and then he was asking for more details as part of that conversation, but it wasn't that at all! Your father made a comment about superheroes saving me from things like muggers."  
"My Dad? Muggers?"  
"Yeah, attempted thieving of my purse during date number two. Steve used his military-ness to stop the guy and I called in your dad. Didn't want to plug up the emergency system when we were all totally fine. So Steve, apparently, couldn't get this superhero comment out of his head, and mentioned it to a colleague, who's a girl might I add, and she hacked the police database! Can you believe that! And that's where they found out that information. I've already erased it from the records. And I _will_ be telling your father about this next time I see him."  
"We can call him about that later. He shouldn't be outing you."  
"It's really not your dad's fault Sara. I'm just angry this Arrow stuff is affecting Steve and me already and we're not even on date three. And I'm pissed that Steve looked into me. And really, most of my anger is because I'm a hypocrite now. You know I've been doing the same thing to Steve!"

That admission surprised her. She knew Diggle was looking into Mr. Steve Rogers. Even though he didn't own up to it, it didn't take a genius to know that Oliver asked him to.

"You and Diggle both," Sara muttered, biting her lip after. Her hope that Felicity didn't hear her went unanswered.  
"Oliver?" she asked, expectantly.  
"Probably," Sara shrugged.   
"Well I'm looking for very particular information," Felicity explained, weaving together what little she knew about Steve's mysterious career. "He even supported my search! At least I had the decency to tell him. Not go behind his back."  
"I think you should come clean with him Felicity. At least a little bit. Tell him you help out the Arrow and the Canary occasionally. We ask you for intel, and, if we promise to behave, you get it for us."  
"Neither of you ever behave. And why should I come clean? I don't think Steve really likes the vigilantes."  
"The answer to why is because you do help us. You aren't going to be able to date a guy who has a hate on for Oliver and me, are you?"  
"No," she deflated.  
"Then better to know now than after date number three."

*

Felicity thought briefly on Sara's suggestion. If Steve didn't want to be with her because of her vigilante support, because she helped the Arrow, then Steve probably wasn't who she wanted to spend her time with anyway. Really, it made sense to tell him, and to tell him before they got further involved.

She just didn't want it to burn their relationship to the ground. Steve was textbook perfect. Could anyone blame her for wanting to keep him?

"No one could blame you at all. Oh, sorry. You didn't mean to say that out loud did you?"  
"I did not. At least it wasn't embarrassing, like the other day when you walked by and your bum was looking particularly great and then I started comparing and ranking everyone else's bums."  
"How'd I place?"  
"You came in second, only because I think my bum is pretty super great."  
"No need to apologize. Your bum is pretty super great. Definitely number one material."  
"I do think you're right though. About Steve. Not about bums. Or, well, I guess about both. So thanks for helping me make a decision, and for the compliment to my derriere . Now, onto you and Oliver!"

Sara groaned.

"Boys are what girls night is all about. At least, that's what I read on the internet. It kind of seems counter intuitive. You would think girls night would be about girls."   
"I'd prefer that," Sara laughed. "I already know what Ollie told you, and there isn't much more to it. I know there's something else that I need in a relationship, because as surreal as things were with Nyssa, they were also very, very real. It wasn't missing anything, I wasn't missing anything. Now I am. And I don't want to drag it out with Ollie hoping that we find it someday when it's just not going to happen."  
"Does everyone know?"  
"Everyone?"  
"The girls of girls night?"  
"Yeah, I think so. Thea asked me about it last week, and I've been crashing with Sin or Laurel, so they know. Laurel probably hasn't told her girlfriends. Then again, she probably didn't tell them I was dating Ollie anyway. If she did, you'll be hearing a lot of whispers of 'bitch'. Granted, you might hear that anyway."  

By the time they arrived, Thea and Sin were waiting in the spa's lobby with two other girls and Laurel. Felicity could already tell that Laurel's friends were not impressed with Sin, and, judging by the stink-eye Sara received, Laurel either did tell them about her sister's rekindled fling with Oliver, or they were very good at holding a grudge for six years.

Laurel, however, was perfectly pleasant to Sara.

"I'm so happy you could come," she hugged her sister before turning to Felicity. "Sara was telling me how close you've gotten since she came back."   
"I do love catching people up on technology," Felicity said cautiously.

'Mmmm' and a tight smile was the response Laurel gave her. _Perhaps perfectly pleasant wasn't the best description_ , Felicity thought. Before she could catch the other girls' names, one of the spa's hostesses whisked the group to the pedicure room.

"So Felicity," Laurel started, an undertone of acid in her voice, "It seems like Thea and Sara need today to mend their broken hearts, but what about you?"   
"No broken heart for me. The only thing I need mending is my chipped polish."   
"Well then, are you seeing anyone? Ollie _is_ back on the market now," she poked.  
"Felicity's seeing a super cute military man named Steve," Sara came to her defense.  
"Really!" Thea gushed, joining up on Team Felicity.  
"More like gorgeous," Felicity took the lead, pulling out her phone to show the girls his handsome face.  
"Wow," the two nameless girls chimed in unison. "He is gorgeous!" one of them agreed.   
"And he can cook," Felicity bragged.   
"How long have you been seeing each other?" Laurel interrogated.   
"Just a few dates now. Definitely better than a lot of the other men I've dated lately. Have you guys ever tried speed dating? Or JDate? Probably not...because not everyone here is Jewish, but needless to say I've been dating, just not any particularly great men until Steve came along."

It was an exaggeration. Felicity had hunted through JDate's profiles once, while Oliver was missing on Lian Yu, to find a decent enough man to bring to her second cousin's wedding, and, nearly 8 months ago, she had been dragged to a speed dating event by one of her old MIT friends.

What mattered now was that her segue worked, and all the girls began ranting about their own terrible speed dating, blind dating, and online dating experiences.

Steve's picture popped up on Felicity's phone partway through the pedicure. As much as she didn't want to answer it, knowing she couldn't properly explain anything with Thea and Laurel in the room, she also wanted to clear the air. Hoping the girls wouldn't stop talking and listen in, she answered.

"Hey," she said cheerfully. "How's work?"

*  
Steve was expecting an unhappy Felicity to answer the phone. He was prepared to either be ignored, or be hung up on again. Quickly, he adjusted his strategy.

"It's coming to an end. I should be home tomorrow night."   
"Great. How does dinner sound?"  
"That, well, that, um, sounds great. Are you sure?"  
"Yes Steve, I'm sure," she teased.   
"Okay, my place? Spaghetti?"  
"With garlic toast?" He could hear the hope in her voice.  
"It wouldn't be spaghetti night without it. Um, so I wanted to apologize," he started, but she cut him off.   
"Me too. In person. Tomorrow. Let me know if you won't be back and we'll reschedule."   
"Okay."  
"Talk later."

The phone clicked, and he sat, staring at it for nearly ten minutes, completely at a loss for how women worked. Just earlier, she was pissed off, and now, she seemed anything but.

When he asked Barton later that night, he only laughed.

"Cap, even if you'd been awake for those 70 years, you'd still be at a complete loss."  
"Why?"  
"Because you'd still be a man, and she'd still be a woman." 


	7. The Third Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After apologies from both sides, Steve takes Felicity to an art show. Sounds great, in theory. The problem, however, is that there's another super soldier admiring the gallery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone switching from Team Steve to Team Oliver, or vice versa? This chapter is very Felicity/Steve centric, so I hope those people rooting for Team Steve enjoy it :) 
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not sure I need this, but it seems other FF writers add it. Sadly, I do not own Arrow, DC, Marvel, or Captain America. I am simply playing with the characters for non-profit fun. Cheers!

At five p.m. sharp on Sunday night, Steve rapped his knuckles on Felicity's door, bouquet of wildflowers in hand. He was nervous. Their disagreement on the phone bothered him, but disagreements with people he cared about were all too familiar to Steve. Having them was unavoidable, considering the world he came from and the world his coworkers lived in. But fighting in person, with a woman he cared for in the way he cared for Felicity? He wasn't sure how to do that.

"Hi," Felicity answered, somewhat shyly. _Maybe she's also not sure how to do this_ , Steve pondered. Without wanting to waste his opportunity to make up for his betrayl, he held out the flowers.   
"These are for you."

Felicity took the bouquet with a thank you, replacing the wilted tulips he brought her last week with the wildflowers.

"I don't often get flowers," she said, as if feeling the need to explain why she hadn't thrown the tulips before now.  
"Dinner is ready, garlic bread and all."  
"Okay. Good. Yes. I'm looking forward to it."

Steve wasn't convinced she actually was looking forward to it. Her words were robotic, practiced. He offered her the crook of his elbow, and, although hesitant, she took it. They didn't exchange any words until they were seated at his table, full plates of spaghetti in front of them.

"I want to apologize Felicity. It was wrong of me to find out personal information about you without having your permission first. And, I'm sorry for that. I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive my betrayal of your trust."  
"It's okay," she bit her lip, eyes cast down.  
"It's okay?"   
"Yes. I understand wanting to get to the bottom of something," she looked back into Steve's eyes, "Although you did give me your permission, I've been actively hunting down information on what you do and where you work. And even though you said that you encouraged me looking into you, you really don't know how capable I am of finding things out about people. I'm very, very good with computers. So, I'm sorry too. For doing what I've been doing."  
"There's nothing for you to apologize for, okay? I would love for you to know everything, I just can't be the one who tells you it."  
"I've stopped."  
"Stopped?"  
"Looking into you, your work. There are things you can't tell me, and I can accept that."

Steve's heart swooped. He was forgiven _and_ she was accepting his mystery.

He would be overjoyed. Except, he could tell there was still something off. She hadn't relaxed at all.

"There's more?" he pushed.  
"Yes. I need to apologize for something else. My second apology is for lying to you. I'm sorry for not being honest."

His heart stopped swooping.

"You lied to me?"  
"Yes."  
"About?"  
"The vigilantes. I do work with them. Sometimes," she downplayed, "Occasionally really. It's just when they need IT support. And I always ask them to behave, you know, not..." Felicity drew a line across her neck.

His heart dropped.

"Why? Why would you help them?" Steve felt sick at the thought.     
"It's really quite simple Steve. I know you don't think it, but Starling City is a better place because of them."  
"Is it? Really?"  
"Yes, it is. I printed out the statistics for you," she handed him a folder of graphs and charts.   
"Felicity," he said, without looking at the file, "These vigilantes are murderers."  
"Yes, they've killed people. I can't deny that. And I don't want to condone it. I don't condone it. But because I've been there, seen the situations first hand with that hostage situation thing I was telling you about, I understand why they make certain calls in the field. You can't tell me that you haven't made field decisions that resulted in everyone not walking away with a heartbeat, Steve. Does that make you a murderer?"

Steve couldn't answer that. He had killed people. It was an inescapable side effect of being a soldier. A side effect he hated, and tried to prevent as much as he could. He doubted these vigilantes felt the same.

"Were you shot?" He asked, avoiding her question and continuing to discount the details she put together.  
"Yes."  
"And Mr. Diggle knows?"  
"Yes. He patched me up. John has some basic first aid from his time with the army."  
"Does Mr. Diggle help the vigilantes too?"  
"No."  
"But he knows that you help them?"  
"Yes."

She opened the file for him, likely sensing his resistance. Steve didn't want to see the facts, he simply wanted Felicity to stop with this quest to help people who took the law into their own hands.

As he couldn't ignore the file she was currently tapping with her finger, Steve examined each of the pages. It was basically a timeline of vigilante activity, telling the story that when the Arrow started, he targeted certain people, taking crime out from the top level down. As time progressed, the Arrow seemed to fight crime from the bottom up as well. It was clear that both the death rate and the crime rate had dropped. Significantly.

"How did you start working with the Arrow?"  
"He was shot at QC and ended up in my car. I helped him, since he was bleeding everywhere. My upholstery hasn't been the same since," she mumbled, "I assume, after that, he found out everything about me, like my IT expertise. When he needs that, he gets in touch. And I help him because of what you're looking at right now. He makes this city better."   
"How does he get in touch?"  
"Usually by appearing out of nowhere. He's very good at that."  
"And the woman, this Canary? Do you help her too?"  
"Yes. Her and the Arrow work together now and then. I think it's a rather power-struggle type of relationship," she smirked.   
"It's a dangerous relationship Felicity."

He hoped to convey his concern, but he only seemed to anger her. Her eyes narrowed at him, and her lips pursed together.  

"You sound just them," she muttered.  
"What do you mean?"  
"You think these vigilantes want their innocent IT girl getting hurt? They don't."  
"Then why involve you?"  
"Because I help them save a lot of people from a lot of bad things. The scar on my back is just evidence of that."  
"How did you get that scar?"  
"By saving someone. Well worth it, don't you think? A life for a scar?"  
"Felicity," he took her hand in his, dragging his thumb along her palm, "I care about you. I don't want you to place yourself in dangerous situations, but I also respect you. I will not tell you what to do. I wouldn't dare do that. All I ask is that you're careful."  
"I am Steve. And it's not like I'm out there, fighting the battle. I stay safe."

Steve doubted that. She already admitted to being held hostage by a madman and taking a gunshot to her back. The vigilante had been in the city for two years, and so far she had two close call situations (that he knew about).

"My life, it isn't a happy place sometimes," he started, "You were right that I've killed people. It's part of the job, and it isn't something I try to dwell on. Yet, I do dwell on it. A lot more than some of my coworkers. I came here, to Starling, to escape some of that violence in my life. It was sucking me in and turning me into a person I didn't recognize. I don't want that for you. When we met, I liked that you seemed untouched by the cruelty I've experienced and caused. Now, I'm finding out that you aren't as sheltered from it as I thought. And like I said, I don't want you to be in the same place I'm in right now, questioning what's right and what's wrong. You don't deserve to feel that way."   
"It's sweet that you're concerned about my moral compass Steve, but I'm doing okay. I'm still the same person I was before the vigilante came to town," she smiled genuinely for the first time that night.  
"I think it might take me some time to adjust to the idea that you help the city's vigilantes."  
Felicity's smile fell. "I can give you time." She moved to stand up, when Steve reached out to stop her.  
"No Felicity. I don't want time away from you to adjust. I'm only asking for your patience with me, that's all. I want to get to know you, all of you, including the dangerous parts."

She laughed at that, her mood lighter than it had been all dinner.

"I hardly have any dangerous parts. Except these," she wiggled her fingers, "These babies can take down anyone, electronically at least."

*

Felicity and Steve avoided vigilante talk for the rest of dinner, and it wasn't the only topic they steered clear of. She didn't ask anything about his work trip, and she didn't tell him anything about Oliver's break-up with Sara.

Or at least, she didn't mean to tell him anything about the break-up.

"The spa was really nice. There was this fruit water and it was really delicious. And that terrible sterile smell was barely there. Like, at all. And I think Laurel told the estheticians about the break-ups because they were extra sweet to both Sara and Thea"  
"Break-ups? Oliver and Sara are no longer together?"  
"Uh, no. They're still friends. It was pretty mutual from the sounds of it," she explained.   
"When did they stop seeing each other?"  
"Last Saturday."  
"A week ago?" Steve's disbelief was clear.  
"I know!” Felicity agreed, "Like I said, they're still really friendly. I had no idea until I made a comment about girls night and that's when they realized I didn't know and told me."

_They_ , not Oliver. Felicity shook her head at herself. Another lie to Steve. She really was getting a silver tongue.

She stayed for another hour, and as much as her body ached for Steve's, she kind of thought they needed to both consider everything that was talked about before jumping back into bed and picking up where they left off. Steve must have been on the same page, because he broke off their goodnight kiss quickly.

"I have tickets to an art show on Tuesday night. Would you like to accompany me?" he asked as they broke apart. Felicity started to think about her Tuesday night Arrow duties, and then shoved that to the side. Arrow duties already screwed this up once. She could go on a date if she very well pleased. And it would be a great date, she told herself. Not Oliver or Diggle, or even Slade, were going to ruin it!

How wrong she was.

*

Just as he had the week before, Steve arrived at the QC building on his bike, parking in the same spot and greeting the same security guard. He was handed the familiar electronic badge and directed, once again, to the executive elevator. He didn't get the odd looks in the lobby (thanks to the suit he wore), and there wasn't a nasty woman in the elevator with him.

This date was already shaping up to be better than the last.

"Mr. Rogers," Mr. Queen stepped into the elevator when it stopped on the eighth floor. "I hear you're heading to an art show tonight at the museum?"  
"Yes, Felicity and I are going to get a quick bite to eat first, and then take in the show."   
"Good idea, eating first. She's usually not a fan of the canapés at these types of events," he said with such familiarity that it bothered Steve.  
"I know," he replied, attempting to hide his irritation.

Awkward silence settled over them. Or at least Steve found it awkward. Mr. Queen went about his business, checking his phone and maybe e-mailing. That was Steve's guess. He was convinced that his guess was right, until the elevator doors opened and Felicity was standing there, coat in hand and ready to go.

"Oliver texted," she said by way of explanation.   
"Oh. That's good. Yeah. Good."

Felicity grinned, and moved to put on her coat. Oliver immediately went to her aid, holding it out for her arms, and placing his hands on her shoulders for a beat longer than really necessary. As if they hadn't had enough contact, Felicity then returned his touch.

"Thanks. Have a good night Oliver." It was when she said those words that she patted the inside of his elbow, and they shared a soft look. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Steve.   
"Have fun," Mr. Queen said back to her.  

He tried to quash the jealously bubbling up in him. The pair were friends, colleagues, no different than him and Natasha. Yet, that was easier to accept when Oliver had a beautiful girlfriend of his own.

Thankfully, Felicity didn't detect Steve's internal green monster, and she chatted vibrantly during the elevator ride, their walk to the bike, and throughout dinner.

Felicity rambled on about the weather: "I couldn't believe it! Not just one cloud that looked like a dinosaur, but five! There was a t-rex and a stegosaurus and a triceratops and a long-neck...I'm not sure which one...and the bird type with the scary long beak. What are they called? Pterodactyls? Anyway, it was crazy odd. Here, see, look. I took a picture."

And she told him all about the new salad bar in the lobby: "It's no Big Belly Burger, but a girl who sits at a desk all day long can't eat greasy burgers and fries for lunch and supper every day. I think it could be good for maybe two days a week, or maybe just one day. They do have cheese and avocado that you can add to the salads, so it can't be all bad, right? I think there might even be bacon. And I hear that kale is the new craze. I might as well try it. Once."

She only mentioned Oliver one time, and, to Steve's delight, it was with annoyance: "He really never listens. I couldn't tell you how many times I've lectured him on accounting documentation. And then he has a business lunch today and forgets the receipt! So naturally Isabel had a field day with that one and insinuates terrible things about hotel rooms and harlots. Who even calls them that? Then, after Isabel rips into him, she rips into me because apparently I'm his babysitter. And even though Isabel's already been a bitch to me, there's nothing cranky Oliver loves more than lashing out at his, quite frankly, amazing and too good for him EA."

Their whole night was getting them back on track, to before the whole vigilante debacle. She was as chatty as she'd been before their argument, and touching him just as affectionately as she had on their second official date. So when, an hour after they arrived at the art show, and Felicity tensed, turned whiter than a ghost, and cursed under her breath, he knew that it couldn't be because of him. 

"Shit," she had mumbled.  
"Sorry?" Steve didn't know what caused her reaction, and hoped by asking, she'd say something other than "Oh? Nothing."

It was obvious she was lying to him. It wasn't "nothing". Her eyes were locked on someone across the room and her grip had noticeably tightened on his arm the closer they walked towards whoever was in her line of sight.

"You sure?" he pressed.   
"Yes. Of course. I just saw a friend. I need to say hi. Would you mind?" Felicity asked him quickly, almost so fast the words blended together. He told her to go, that he would be where she left him.

He pretended to become absorbed in the painting to his left, when in reality his eyes stayed with Felicity. She moved at a rapid pace towards a young brunette and a very large, middle-aged man who resembled, get this, a pirate! _He has a patch and everything!_ As amusing as the real-life pirate was, Felicity's attitude was hardly something to smile at. The most befuddling thing was that this woman, who hadn't shown much fear during an attempted mugging, was terrified at the sight of these two people.

The young brunette hugged Felicity, introduced her to the man, then left Felicity and him alone. To someone without Steve's experience, the next motion probably would have seemed innocent. The man simply looked like he was touching her arm and guiding her somewhere else. In reality, the man was gripping her uninjured arm and pulling her from the room.

Steve followed them instantly, his feet moving the millisecond the pirate's hand touched her.

No one man-handled his date.

*

The pressure on Felicity's arm hurt. A lot. Not knowing how Slade would react, she kept her whimpers quiet. The one thing she did not want to do was draw attention to Slade as he dragged her out of the gallery, afraid he would end up hurting everyone in the room, including Thea. She focused on her relief that Oliver's baby sister was no longer standing beside the psycho, oblivious to his craziness.

"I was hoping to meet you Miss. Smoak," Slade said, throwing her roughly against a brick wall in the dim alley behind the gallery. "I expected Oliver to keep you rather hidden considering how much he cares for you. You know," he stalked closer, "you rather ruined my plans with your little tell-Thea-the-truth trick."  
"How did you know that was my plan?" she grimaced from the pain of being tossed like a rag doll. _Twice in a week_ , she complained.   
"Oh, my dear, neither Moira or Oliver would have the courage to do so without the right motivation. And you, pet, are Oliver's motivation in all things."

 She glared, since it really was the only defence she had while waiting for his hand to strike her.

 "When you wake up, tell Oliver I said hello," he laughed and brought his hand down.

Felicity cringed, awaiting the sting, a possible concussion, some kind of facial fracture, but none of that came. Instead, when she opened her eyes, she found Steve, holding back Slade's arm and demanding to know what kind of man hits a defenceless lady.

Slade's shocked expression matched her own.

"Mr. Wilson?" A voice called. _Thea._  
"Go," Felicity told Slade, hiding herself in case Thea appeared. "Now."

And he did, but not before giving Steve a sideways glance.

Ignoring the look Slade shot him, Steve approached her, and she, stupidly, backed away. "Felicity?" he said questioningly, not understanding why she was so afraid.   
"How did you do that?"  
"Do what? Are you okay?"

She didn't answer him. Clearly, Steve was strong. Stronger than your average human. He wouldn't have been capable of stopping Slade otherwise. _Did he know about Slade? Does he have Mirakuru in his system?_

"You need to go."  
"Felicity?"  
"Now. You need to go now. Leave me."  
"No."  
"Yes! YES! Go!" she sobbed, terrified.

She was sure that her fear was the only thing that had Steve disappearing into the street crowd. She didn't feel ready to move yet, so, while sitting on the cold ground of the alleyway, she quickly brainstormed a plan, which really only had two steps:

Step one: Get Thea away from Slade.  
Step two: Get home and prepare for the worst.

Felicity pulled her phone from her purse, dialing their missing member.

"Blondie?" Roy answered, after her fifteenth try. "You okay?"  
"Fine. Mostly. This call, it's not for me. It's Thea. You need to get to the Modern Art Museum's Gallery. And you need to get Thea away from Slade."   
"What? She's with Slade?!" Felicity could hear the fury in his voice. His next words though were dejected. "I can't. She won't...she's not going to listen to me."  
"Get here NOW," Felicity used her loud voice. "Apologize. Tell her the truth. About you. Tell her what's been going on."  
"But Oliver..."  
"I'll deal with the aftermath, okay? Just hurry. Please."  
"Okay. I'm just around the corner anyway. It can't hurt for me to try."  
"Good."  
"Are you sure you're okay? You don't sound the best."  
"Just get Thea."

*

Steve hung back, hearing Felicity's conversation. He had no idea who she was talking to. _Could it be Oliver? What truth did he need to tell Thea? Who was Slade? Was it Mr. Wilson? Slade Wilson._ He texted Natasha the name, hoping she'd be able to shed some light on whatever was happening.

He moved across the street, waiting for Oliver's arrival. He never came. Instead, Steve saw the young brunette, who he assumed was Thea, leave with a kid in a red hoodie. _Was that who Felicity called? Who is he?_

He'd been so distracted by his stakeout that he didn't notice Felicity leave the alley. He checked it before returning to his bike, but she was long gone.

It made no sense. She was scared of him. Just minutes before that, she was scared of this Mr. Wilson. Yet, she made Steve leave and confronted the pirate. Based on her possible phone conservation with the red-hooded guy, Steve guessed it was to get Thea away from Mr. Wilson, but why? And what had gone so wrong in those minutes that she was now scared of Steve?

_And why did Mr. Wilson drag Felicity from the gallery?_

_And why did he mention Oliver, just before trying to strike her?_

He called Natasha. He wasn't going to figure this out alone. When she didn't answer, he tried again and again, leaving voice message after voice message. After the tenth call, he started to pace. He paced and he paced and he paced, wearing a tread in the floor, waiting for her to call him back.

When she didn't, he did the only thing that made sense.

He went to see Felicity.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm particularly fond of the elevator scene. What's your favourite part?


	8. The Half Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Felicity find out Steve's secret, or will Steve find out Oliver's? The fall-out from Slade and Steve's confrontation results in a few more lies, and a few more truths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm sorry for the time this took, especially considering I'm going on vacation for two weeks without my computer so there will be no update until after the season finale. Which is a little heartbreaking because then we'll see Slade's demise before I get to write much about it. Happy second-last episode week everyone!

He stood outside her door, listening to Felicity hum a melancholy tune and debating on if he should give her more time. It had only been two hours since she ran away from him. _What if she was still scared?_ Steve thought. He wasn't sure how he would handle seeing such fear in her eyes a second time, and knowing it was somehow caused by him.

Summoning the same courage that kept him volunteering again and again for the war, he knocked firmly, three times, and called her name softly.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Felicity. Please talk to me."

Before the words were even out of his mouth, she opened the door wide and motioned him inside. She changed since the alleyway, Steve noted, her body now covered in stretchy yoga clothes. The only evidence of the earlier fight was a small incision above her eye. He reached out to give her comfort, momentarily forgetting her panic from earlier.

She stepped away from his hand before he could reach her, and quickly took a place on the far side of her kitchen table.  

The table was free of the clutter he'd grown accustomed to. Instead of computer parts and coffee mugs, there was a handgun, taken apart, and currently being cleaned by Felicity, and a second handgun, put together and, Steve assumed, fully loaded. He was more than a little confused. The woman who, earlier that night, told him that her computer skills were the only dangerous thing about her was now the owner of two guns, and apparently, was well versed enough in the weaponry to deftly clean each component.

It was his turn to step away. When he did, Felicity sighed.

"They're for my protection," she explained, not looking up at him.   
"I'm not going to hurt you. I wouldn't."  
"I'm not planning on shooting you either, FYI. These are...just because. I know, in here," she pointed to her heart, "that I don't need physical protection from you. But in here," she patted her head, "things are less clear."  
"This whole evening hasn't been clear from the minute you went to speak with the young lady and the pirate."  
Felicity snorted. "He does look like a pirate, doesn't he?"

Steve nodded yes, unsure of what to say or do next. He didn't want to bombard the woman holding a gun with a lot of questions. Not that he was afraid of getting shot, just that the situation was already strained and he didn't think a bullet would help things out.

"I'll explain what I can Steve. And I'll explain why I'm freaked out. And then maybe you can explain what you can, and it will help me freak out less."  
"What makes you think I have something to explain?" Steve asked. He replayed the entire evening in his head, and he knew that he hadn't done anything to give up his secret identity. And, if she did know his secret identity, somehow, Captain America wasn't exactly the kind of person someone would be afraid of.

Felicity went back to cleaning her gun, staying silent until it was back together.

"I know that you have something to explain because tonight, in that alleyway, you stopped a man who is more than capable of punching his fist through a concrete wall."

When Steve stopped Mr. Wilson's arm, it hadn't gone unnoticed that he was stronger than your average foe. But the man was large, muscular, and Steve was so angry that he was about to hit Felicity, that he hadn't given it much thought. Now that she'd drawn attention to it, it was hard to think about anything but his power.

Felicity spun a vague story for Steve, too vague in his opinion. It didn't help that he was pretty sure it was all lies, and that none of it explained Mr. Wilson's last words about Oliver. According to her, she got in with some of the wrong people and Slade Wilson was their muscle for hire. These people, whoever they were, injected him with something. A serum, she said.

"The injectees bleed from the eyes and then either die or become suped-up rage junkies with Hulk-like strength. Which means, for you to have stopped him, you are also Hulky...ish."

He didn't respond, at first. He waited for Felicity to say something else, shedding some more light on what was really going on. When it was clear she wasn't going to, he debated about what he could and should tell her. She obviously needed him to open up before she would do the same. _Here goes_ , he thought.

"It's funny you mentioned the Hulk. He and I are actually friends, of a sort. Because he--I--we--I'm not actually sure if I'm allowed to tell you this part Felicity. I guess I can tell you that you're right. I'm very strong. It's also because of a serum, but one that the US government injected me with. I promise you that I'm not a rage junkie. At all. If I were, the man who attacked you wouldn't have his head," Steve grumbled. "The scientist who injected me, he told me that the serum made good men great, and bad men worse. I was chosen by him for the government's program because I was, I am, a good man. A good man who's not going to hurt you. Ever."

Felicity just stared at him. For a very long while. Without saying anything. It was unnerving. He could tell the gears in her brain were churning.

"I can't believe you didn't fucking tell me," she whispered angrily. "Goddamnit. Can't just find myself someone who doesn't run around in fucking tights all day and night, protecting mankind and shit. No, poor ole Felicity needs her crushes to be stupid fucking superheroes."  
"Um...what?"  
"Don't you dare 'um...what me'. You know exactly who you are Steve. And so do I. You're fucking Captain America." Felicity burst into a fit of giggles. "You're fucking Captain America, and," she snorted, "I almost was. I would have. Oh fuck. I think I need to sit down. Shit, I already am."

*

Felicity brain was on overdrive. Every random fact and rumor she knew about Captain America was bouncing around her head; her mind busily comparing each detail with Steve.

The one thing that she kept coming back to was an article she read, shortly after New York happened, that explained Captain America's absence in the world since WWII. Frozen, was what it said, that he'd been trapped in the ice for 70 years. She thought that the article was ridiculous, convinced the New York Captain America could not possibly be the same guy as WWII Captain America.

When Steve didn't deny her outburst, she started in with the questions.

"You were frozen?"  
"Yes."  
"So you fought in WWII?"  
"I did."  
"And now you fight with the Avengers?"  
"Sometimes."  
"Your phone. The one you couldn't use. Tony Stark made it, didn't he?"  
"Yes."  
"And your friend Natasha. She isn't just your friend. She's part of your world, the Avengers maybe?"  
"Yes. She works with me. She's also the one who looked into Starling's police records."  
"And you really are friends with the Hulk?"  
"Well, he and I have some differences, but yes, I like to think we're friends."

Steve had taken a seat across from her now, waiting for the questions to continue.

"How come you can tell me this now, when you couldn't before?"  
"Because you know who I am now, and I didn't have to tell you, meaning the confidentiality component of my agreement with S.H.I.E.L.D. is intact."

Her next question was cut off by Kermit singing _It's Not Easy Being Green_. It was Oliver's ringtone, not that she would ever tell him that. As she reached for it, Steve, with his now-outted superhero reflexes, answered it.

"Hi Mr. Queen."  
"Oliver, yes. Sorry. Not every day I speak to a billionaire."

Felicity rolled her eyes. If Steve talked to Stark, which Felicity imagined he did, then he was speaking with someone wealthier than even the Queens.

"Felicity is just in the shower. I'll have her call you back."  
"Bye."

He put the phone back on the table.

"What was that?" Felicity didn't like people touching her tech, and now she was going to have to lie to Oliver about something else, on top of Steve's secret identity.

She was officially annoyed at Captain America.

"You can't tell anyone who I am Felicity. Anyone."  
"Puh-lease. I work with vigilantes and have kept my mouth shut under police questioning. I think I can handle my boss, who probably isn't going to start off his call with 'Oh, I've been meaning to ask, is Steve a superhero'? He probably just needs something for tomorrow."

She knew that wasn't why he called. Roy probably spilled the beans. She needed to call him back, right away. Otherwise, he was bound to ignore personal boundaries as usual, and drop by. It was likely he was already on his way.

And she wasn't ready to stow away her guns. Which was problematic if Oliver was near her apartment. He couldn't know she had guns.

He picked up half way through the first ring.

"Felicity," Oliver said with relief. "Are you okay? Roy called..."  
"I'm fine," she lied.  
"You don't sound fine."  
"I am," she tried to smooth out her voice. Oliver made an unsatisfied tone before continuing.  
"Roy said some things."  
"What things Oliver?"  
"I don't know Felicity!" he yelled. "He said that Slade was with Thea and that you called him to get her away, and," he huffed, "He's told her, about him, that he was injected and that he's strong and has control issues and that the Arrow is helping him with that."  
"I think that's for the best."  
"You don't make those decisions!" He roared.  
"Neither do you Oliver," she replied calmly, aware that Steve was in the room.

Suddenly, she realized that Captain America may have super hearing abilities. She pocketed one of her guns, walked to her bedroom, and closed the door behind her, hoping it would be enough of a buffer.

"Oliver, this was Roy's choice, and Thea's too. He wanted her to know, and she wanted to know. Yes, I encouraged him to tell her the truth because I think it's the right thing to do. I think that you need to be honest with the people you love, not run away from them when things get difficult."  
"Are we still talking about Roy and Thea?"  
"What? Who else would we be talking about?"

For a moment, she thought about them, about her and Oliver and Diggle. And how what she said could just as easily been a jab at him, for never telling them anything about the island, and then for disappearing to that very place when he couldn't handle his life.

"Are we talking about you and Steve?" he interrupted her thought. "Sara told me that he knows about your work with me...the other me. And before you get mad, she just wanted me to be careful to not say anything in his presence that might be suspicious."  
"I wasn't going to get mad Oliver. I planned on telling you the same thing, I just haven't seen you to talk to you about it."  
"I'll come over then, and we can talk about it."  
"No," she said, a little too quickly.    
"He's still there." Oliver stated.  
"Yes."  
"Roy told me something else."  
"What?" she asked, exasperated.   
"Thea saw Slade and you talking, walking. She saw your boyfriend follow you two. She recognized him from a photo you must have shown her. Thea told Roy that he was apparently very predatory. She suspects he's hurting you. Physically."  
"You're kidding me, right?" she scoffed.  
"Felicity. You can tell me the truth. You always tell me the truth."  
"And I am now Oliver. I'll see you at work tomorrow. Good night."

*

"She didn't deny it," Oliver told Diggle when she disconnected the call.   
"What exactly did she say?" Diggle crossed his arms over his chest, doubt evident in his voice that Felicity was a victim of Steve.   
"She asked if I was kidding her."  
"There you have it, she's fine. If she was hurt, she'd say something."  
"He was there Digg. Maybe she couldn't say anything."  
"You think that Felicity, the smartest person either of us know, wouldn't be able to think of a way to tell you she was in trouble? And that she would even be in that kind of trouble to start with?"

Digg made sense, like usual, but Oliver knew that something was wrong. He could hear it in her voice. Knowing nothing he was going to say would change Digg's mind, he kept quiet. He sparred with Digg and injured a couple canisters of  tennis balls. When Digg called it a night, so did Oliver, bidding him good-bye before departing to his penthouse.

Or at least, that's what he told Digg.

*

After her phone call with Oliver, Felicity realized she hadn't thanked Steve for protecting her earlier and it made her feel like a terrible person, especially considering that she planned on asking him to leave immediately after saying those two words.

"Thank you, by the way." Felicity put her gun back on the table with its friend and sat down once more.   
"You're welcome Felicity. Like I said, I would never hurt you."  
"I know."   
"So no more questions?"  
"Not tonight."   
"I have one for you."   
"Okay?" She owed him an answer. She just hoped it would be truthful.  
"How did you know?"  
"Know what?"  
"Who I am...Captain America."  
"You gave it away with that good man becoming great story," she laughed. "I searched quotes about good men once upon a time when I was trying to inspire a...a friend...and that one came up. It wasn't you who said it, but the person who was quoted, a Colonel Phillips I think, was an unknown name to me. So I looked him up too, found some other documentation, and it was pretty clear he was talking about _the_ Captain America."  

Steve nodded thoughtfully and gave her a small smile, and a big part of Felicity wanted him to stay. Wanted to bombard him with more questions. Wanted to do exactly what she had giggled about earlier. But could she be the one to defile Captain America? The thought sent a little thrill through her.

She didn't let that thrill keep her from her earlier plan.

"Steve, I'm going to need you to leave. For tonight. I just...need to process this."  
"Of course."   
"Would you be up for getting together tomorrow night?"  
"I would. I like you Felicity, and I know that you like Steve Rogers. The fact that I'm also Captain America doesn't change the man you've come to know."  
"It actually clears up a few things," she laughed.  
"I do hope that, if you want us to continue this relationship, you'll be more honest with me."

Felicity knew she sputtered, which wouldn't help her innocent plea.

"I know Slade Wilson isn't just hired muscle, and I know he has something to do with Oliver. I'll obviously be using my contacts to look into him Felicity, because he's dangerous and you're involved. Hopefully you can tell me more, more truths that is, soon. Or at least explain to me why you can't. You can process that tonight too, okay?"

She only nodded, unsure of her voice. Being caught was something Felicity's nerves didn't know how to handle. As soon as the door clicked behind him, she locked it, took a gun,  dashed into her bathroom, cranking the shower up to high. Tears started leaking as she stripped down, and by the time she was under the stream of water, she was in full blown, body wracking, sobs.

She cried for the loss of her innocent  relationship. He knew she lied to him. She was a liar. And she hated being a liar. And, even though Steve was very well equipped to be involved in her vigilante life, she wanted to keep him separate. It had been nice to have something un-Arrow related going on in her life.

She cried for the lies she would have to tell Oliver. Just earlier, he told her that she always told him the truth. And now she wouldn't  be able to. Because Steve's secret was just as important as Oliver's.

She cried because her arm hurt. And her hip hurt. And her leg hurt.

She cried because the hurt Slade caused to her body was only scratching the surface of the damage he planned on inflicting.

She cried until she heard a noise from outside her bathroom.

As quietly as she was capable, she climbed out of the shower, leaving it on to mask the noise she was bound to make. She wrapped her body in a towel and palmed the gun she'd taken with her before opening the door a crack. The bedroom was empty, much to her relief.

It was when she entered her living room that she found him.

*

Oliver knocked, repeatedly. Justifying Felicity's lack of answering as just cause, he pulled the spare key he had made when Diggle fixed the door and let himself into her home.

The sound of the shower was the first thing he noticed.  

Which didn't make sense.

Because Steve told him Felicity was in the shower when he answered her phone.

The next thing that threw him was the gun on her kitchen table.

"Oliver? Jesus! What the hell are you doing here?"

He stood still, eyes glued to the weapon. He couldn't form any thoughts other than those around what the hell Felicity was doing with a gun. _Is it even hers?_ Oliver wondered, scared of the answer. Knowing she was waiting for an explanation, he turned to face her.

"What are doing with--" he asked, stopping mid-turn. His eyes roamed her skin, and not in the way they usually did. This time it was discreet. And this time it didn't cause him any pleasure.

Felicity was wrapped in nothing but a fluffy, dark purple towel. Its colour perfectly matched the bruises forming on her uninjured arm and both of her legs. It wasn't unusual for Felicity to have a bruise or two, but nothing like this. Oliver was positive he could make out a handprint on her forearm.

And that's when he saw the second gun, in her hand, and it dawned on him that Felicity, the woman he cared for so deeply for that it changed him, was scared. Of something. Of someone. Of someone who bruised her skin.

Roy's words came tumbling back to him: _"Thea thinks this guy, Steve, is abusing her."_

Oliver, who prided himself on control, lost it.

He was going to beat the living shit out of this asshole who put marks on _his_ girl's skin, who scarred her so badly that she felt the need to have a gun with her in the shower.

His fist hit Steve's door so hard it nearly splintered it. And, when Steve opened it, he put those fists to work, slamming them into his jaw and his ribcage.

Oliver got in two hits before Steve started fighting back.

"ENOUGH!"

It isn't her voice that stops him. It's her face.

"Oliver! Stop!" She pushed her way in front of him, blocking his next attack on Steve. "Stop."   
"He hurt you!" Oliver screamed back.  
"No. No, Oliver. Steve didn't hurt me. I'm fine. The bruises aren't from Steve. He didn't hurt me. Just please calm down. I'm okay."

*

Felicity stood between Steve and Oliver, repeating those words, that she was okay, that Steve didn't hurt her, over and over and over, until she saw Oliver relax out of his fighting position. When she knew that the fisticuffs were finished with, she ducked down, keeping an eye on Oliver, and picked up Steve's cell phone from the floor.

"Hello?"  
"You're not Steve," a female voice growled.    
"I am not. This is Felicity. Who am I speaking to?" she responded, trying to be polite.  
"Natasha. What the hell happened?"  
"Hi Natasha!" Felicity beamed, eager to make nice with a co-worker of Steve's who also happened to have pretty good hacking skills. "My very overprotective boss just decided to pick a fight with Steve. His sister fed him a very untrue story about Steve abusing me."  
"Well that's ridiculous. Has he met Steve?"  
"I know, right? Would you like me to put him on?"  
"Yes, please."   
"Okay. Nice talking to you."

She took her eyes off Oliver, and faced Steve. She was surprised how worse for wear he looked. Oliver must have gotten in a few good punches before Steve went all Captain America on his ass.

"I'm sorry about, well, this," she waved her hand between the two men. "Um...Natasha would like to speak with you." Turning back to Oliver, with her angry face in full force, she snarled, "And I would like to speak with you. My place. Now."

Oliver turned and marched back to her place, and, not having any idea what to do, she gave Steve a small shrug and a wave. Steve returned both motions as he murmured he was fine, again and again, to an obviously concerned Natasha.

Felicity thought that was a little strange. If she worked with him, then she knew he could handle himself in a fight.  

When Felicity arrived back in her living room, Oliver was already seated at the kitchen table, hands in his lap and head hung. Without a word, Felicity went back to her bedroom, changed quickly into pyjamas, and pulled out her very well stocked first aid kit.

She treated his knuckles first. They seemed to take the brunt of the fight.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.  
"Why Oliver? Why would you do that?" she asked him, just as quietly, moving from his knuckles to a couple roughed up patches on his face.  
"I...I just..."

He sighed. Felicity waited, and waited, until her patience wore thin.  

"You what?"  
"I just...I lost it."   
"Because?"  
"Felicity...I know I don't really saw this a lot, but you mean...a lot...to me. More than this city, more than the promise I made to my father, to Tommy. I...the thought...not being able to protect you. I couldn't handle it. I thought that, the bruises, and what Thea saw..."   
"Alright," she cut him off, "I'm going to stop you there. Steve has never hurt me, and he won't. I mean, I guess we could break-up and that would be pretty ouch-inducing, but nothing a pint, or two, of ice cream, and several bottles of red wine, and maybe a little rebound action wouldn't help with. Not that you need to know my break-up routine..."  
"I could have guessed everything except the rebound action," he smirked, and Felicity slapped him lightly on the shoulder.  
"No jokes. I'm still pissed."  
"Sorry," Oliver said, without sounding or looking sorry at all.  
"You won't be so smug in a minute," she told him, wiping the grin from his face. "The bruises are from Slade. I was just going to tell you this tomorrow, but since you're here you might as well know now. He was at the gallery with Thea, as Roy said, and I approached them, hoping to get Thea away from him."   
"Why didn't you call me?"  
"Oliver, my first priority was Thea. My second was the room full of people. An appearance from either you or the Arrow could have spelled bad news for everyone. Maybe it was Slade's plan all along. Who knows? It would have been a great way to expose you to a lot of people at once. I'm still working on a couple angles, see if we can't figure out his next move. Anyway, he dragged me into the back alley," she pointed to the bruise on her arm that looked hand-shaped, "and then threw me," she pointed to the rest of her exposed bruises. Oliver really didn't need to see the one on her ass.

Felicity then told Oliver everything Slade said, verbatim.

"You were right to tell Thea then. Except now it's put you in the crosshairs."   
"Oliver, don't be dumb. I've always been in the crosshairs. That's the reason I own two guns."

*

Oliver wasn't happy.

He assumed that Slade would try to take out Laurel and Sara: the sister that got him through the island, and the sister that, in Slade's mind, he chose over Shado. Naively, he thought Felicity would be safe from him. That she would be exempt from Slade's hatred. It was ridiculous of him to think that. He was fully aware that Isabel was Slade's lacky, thanks to his girl-wonder, and Isabel knew how Oliver felt about Felicity, or, at the very least, suspected it. She knew that going after Felicity would destroy him, and, without a doubt, she shared that information with Slade.

And Felicity, ever so smart Felicity, already knew all this. She was completely conscious of the risks. She was prepared, as well as she could be, and courageous, even when she shouldn't be.

She protected his sister when she should have protected herself.

When he leaned over Felicity and kissed her on the cheek, no one was more surprised than him. With a soft "thank-you", he embraced her tightly, and for just a moment, he let himself be happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked this chapter. I had real struggles with it, and I hope no one noticed! Also, if there are tense issues, that's all on me because I have no beta and for some reason kept switching to present tense while I wrote this. Let me know of any desires, complaints, etc. in the comments, and as always, thanks for reading & commenting & kudos-ing :)


	9. The Whole Truth (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some truths to come out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I didn't go down with the plane during my trip! I'm sorry for my absence...this chapter was a little more challenging to write for me. And I apologize in advance because I'm so eager to get it to everyone that I've only proofed it once, which means I made a gazillion little changes and then didn't proof it again. 
> 
> Also, did you know, there's a new Steve/Felicity fic out there? Check out Avenging Arrow by remerkaba (morcades)!

Oliver didn't exactly leave Felicity's that night. She wasn't aware of his presence, of course. If Felicity knew he had perched across the road, angled so he could see her curtained bedroom window, he would never hear the end of it. But he just couldn't leave her. Not after her encounter with Slade. If that monster came for her...it would destroy him. Oliver could admit that now. He knew that losing Felicity wasn't something his psyche could handle. She was quite literally the glue that held him together.

He texted Diggle after departing Felicity's (the interior of her home, at least), letting his friend and confidante know that he did exactly the opposite of Diggle's advice. The only response was a silent I-told-you-so and a written: "I hope you paid with that pretty face of yours."

 _Diggle will be awfully happy when he sees me in the morning_ , Oliver thought, angry with Steve's ability to handle himself in a fight. Once again, a pang of longing for Felicity's crush on Barry surfaced. And this time, Oliver was more than capable of understanding why.

At five in the morning, when he saw Felicity's lights turn on, he hopped on his bike and returned to his penthouse for a change of clothes. Normally, he would be working out at this time, or, on very rare occasions, sleeping. But this morning, he wanted to get into the office asap, for while he sat vigil, Oliver came up with a plan that would either keep Felicity out of Slade's grasp or force Isabel's hand.

To no one's surprise, his co-CEO was floored to see him in the building before seven.

"I skipped my work out this morning," he shrugged. "I want to talk to you about Felicity."   
"And I want to talk about important things Oliver."   
"She is important, to you and Slade."

Isabel shifted slightly, showing her cards without realizing it.

"Who?" Isabel feigned.   
"You can drop the act Isabel. Felicity found out some very interesting information about you and Slade, and you and my father, your relationship, and, ultimately, your motive for working with Slade. You want QC because you think you deserve it."  
"I do deserve it," she hissed.  
"No, Isabel. You deserve Rochev Consolidated, not Queen. You may have loved Robert Queen, but I feel quite confident that you're a modern enough woman to want your own name on a building, rather than taking something my father promised and didn't deliver."   
  
She didn't deny his words, and Oliver considered that his first win.   
  
"And what does this have to do with your precious Felicity?"  
"You leave her out of this vendetta, get Slade to do the same, and she's yours. You love the tech side of our business, and Felicity's the best. You know that. She'll have you making billions in no time."   
"And she accepts this plan?"  
"Of course," Oliver lied. "You must have noticed she's a survivor. She's not willing to die because of Slade's retaliation for the death of a woman he and I both loved."  
"Even when she loves you?" she scoffed.

Now it was Isabel's turn to catch him off guard. The idea that Felicity was in love with him was a thought he avoided. Especially now that his feelings for her were barely just under the surface, bubbling up more often than not.

Luckily, he was very practiced at controlling his face. The only person who managed to break his years and years of training was the very person they were discussing.

"She loves what we do. She finds me attractive, but what woman doesn't?" he said smugly, "And she cares about me, yes, but, like everyone else in this world, she cares about herself more," he lied again. Felicity was one of the most selfless people who knew. Who else would have stuck their neck out for Thea, just in case? Who else would have supported him, again and again, without faltering? Who else would have spent the millions he gifted restoring the Arrow's lair, just for the good of him and for the good of the city?   
"And why hasn't Miss. Smoak propositioned with this offer?"  
"You, her, and I all know you wouldn't have listened to anything she had to say. She wouldn't have been able to get the words out before you shut her down."  
"Fine. I'll consider your proposal Mr. Queen," she concluded, ending the conversation.

*

"You did what?" she asked, incrediously.  
"It's just to test how much sway Isabel has Felicity."   
"And if it works?"  
"You'll have the option of taking a job where you would be doing what you love, at least until Slade is taken care of," Oliver said simply.   
"I wouldn't love what I love under the authority of a woman I hate."  
"It's not a bad plan Felicity," Diggle spoke up from Oliver's office couch. "It would be better for us to know if Slade and Isabel are partners, or if Slade is stringing her along. If they're partners, we can use that to our advantage."  
"And if not?"  
"Then Isabel won't be able to make the deal," Oliver replied with a shrug.

And apparently Oliver seemed satisfied that Felicity was on board, because he went back to the papers on his desk.

It ticked her off mostly because she was on board, because the plan, as stupid as it was, made sense. Logic, however, couldn't stop her eye-roll and her very immature huff of breath. Why he and Diggle were constantly doing this was beyond her. Always making the plans, and never informing her _before_ they actually implemented them. It was infuriating. She was supposed to be a team member, not just served up as bait with no say. And whenever she said as much, adding that her IQ trumped theirs combined, they gave her the old 'irreplaceable' speech.

"Well, I may be irreplaceable," she threw up some air quotes around their favourite word besides remarkable, "but you'll have to replace me tonight. I won't be at the foundry."

Oliver abandoned his paper work and stood beside her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. She could feel the tension radiating off him, and, to her surprise, she didn't feel like trying to soothe him.

"Felicity, after what happened at the art gallery, Slade's going to target you. I don't want you out of my sight."   
"There's this saying us mortals have: you can't always get what you want. I can't be at the foundry because I have to smooth things over with Steve because someone," she gave him a pointed glare, "decided to collide his face with my boyfriend's fists."   
"Fe-lic-ity, if Slade comes after you..."  
"Then I'll be with Steve," she interrupted, "who is just as capable of taking on Mr. Mirakuru as you, if the bruises on your face are anything to go by."

She knew her words stung him, but chose to stand her ground. If she apologized, Oliver would pounce, and she'd be bailing on Steve and bunkered between QC and the foundry for the rest of her, or Slade's, days. Whichever came first.

Her staring competition with Oliver lasted for a few moments, until he caved, giving her a slight nod.

"Promise me that if anything is suspicious, you'll call us," he demanded.  
"I will call you. Promise."

*

"I don't like it," Oliver murmured to Diggle once Felicity was seated back at her desk.   
"Of course you don't Oliver. The woman you love is in danger and she's got a date with her boyfriend, who happens to have damaged your good-looks."  
"It's not that. She's hiding something. Felicity cares about Steve," he said with more venom than intended. "She wouldn't be putting someone she cares about in danger, and seeing Steve the night after Slade attacks her is doing just that."  
"So you don't think she's seeing Steve tonight? Maybe she just wants some time alone."  
"No, she is seeing him. I saw her phone when she ran to the washroom earlier...they, um, texted about it," he admitted, a little embarrassed he took to stalking Felicity through sneaking peeks at her phone.   
"Oliver, you trust Felicity. I know that. She knows that. You know that. So trust her."

He did trust Felicity. More than most of the people in his life. He, however, didn't trust Steve and he most definitely did not trust Slade.

*

Felicity spent the afternoon torn about what to do with Steve. She would have to tell him the truth, that she worked with the Arrow and that Slade Wilson was an enemy of this city, and apparently that was because of a vendetta against Oliver. But she also needed to distance the connection between Oliver and the Arrow.

The only obvious Queen-Slade connection was Isabel's grudge. Felicity would have to play that up, and then, maybe, just maybe, the Avenges would swoop in, take away Isabel, and then relieve Oliver of his QC worries (and Felicity of her Isabel worries).  

It was a better plan than Oliver's, that was for sure.

Work for Isabel.

Seriously?

He had to be an idiot to suggest that.

And Isabel's intelligence for believing the whole thing was pretty damn questionable too.

It wasn't until Felicity heard a unpleasant "Oh really?" from behind her that she realized that last thought wasn't so much a thought as a statement, made out loud, to her steering wheel. Which couldn`t talk, and wasn't behind her.

And that could only mean one thing.

The last thought Felicity had before everything went dark: _Oh shit_.  

*

"Steve, I have some information."   
"Good. Felicity will be here any minute, and I think if I at least know something, she'll be more willing to tell me everything."   
"Right...anyway..." Natasha said, more concerned with what she discovered than Felicity. Quite honestly, she was pretty over the whole bubbly blonde bit. Between her connections with Slade Wilson, and Oliver's battle with Steve, Natasha was pretty certain the blonde and her boss were more than just friends. "The guy's name is right. Slade Wilson has been labelled as Deathstroke by our ARGUS counterparts. Creative I guess since he likes to cause death by the stroke of a sword. He was injected with a sad copy of the serum used on you while rumored to be on Lian Yu."   
"Why is that familiar?"  
"Your girl's boss and friend Lance were stranded there too. Seems to be a happening spot."

Natasha didn't like this whole thing. There was obviously something else going on, something not in their records that related to Oliver Queen, and a part of her wondered if Felicity was dating Steve, or dating Captain America as a ploy.

Whatever was going on, she wasn't going to let Steve face it alone.

"And when you say sad copy Natasha? What do you mean?"  
"I mean instead of making you into you, it makes you into a mad man, complete with brutal hallucinations and some serious anger issues. They really broke the mold with you, Cap."

*

Steve was understandably concerned. Deathstroke and Oliver Queen were connected through that island. And Deathstroke made a comment to Felicity about Oliver. And Oliver's relationship with Felicity was why she was in trouble, why she was in that alley, why she called someone to get Oliver's sister away, and probably why she owned two guns.

The worst part of all of it was that she hadn't come clean.

She was protecting Oliver, and risking herself to do it.

And Steve was very much not okay with that.

He didn't want to boss her around, but she was being stupid! He planned on telling her. He planned on telling her that she could tell him anything, that he knew about Deathstroke, that he would protect both her, and, though begrudgingly, Oliver too. He would strike a S.H.I.E.L.D. team to take care of Deathstroke and she would be safe.

The only problem in Steve's plan was that Felicity never showed up.

*

"That's the fourth time Steve has called you Oliver."  
"How the hell does he even have my number?"  
"Maybe its Felicity and her phone died."  
"If it was Felicity she'd leave a message, reaming me out for not picking up. Or she'd hack into the systems and get my attention that way. Or--"  
"I get it Oliver. It isn't Felicity."  
"If he calls again, I'll answer. Maybe."

*

With each unanswered ring, Steve became more and more concerned. With both Oliver and Felicity not picking up, he was confident that Deathstroke kidnapped them both.

*  
"Digg?" Oliver called, his voice unsteady.  
"What man?" He caught up to Oliver and followed his line of sight, landing on Felicity's car.  
"Did Steve pick her up? He's always come up before...to her desk. I thought she said she was going home. She was meeting him at their building. Digg? Please tell me she was picked up by Steve."

He couldn't tell Oliver that.

Because he knew that Felicity wasn't picked up by Steve.

And that meant one thing.

Slade Wilson had Felicity.

*

"Stark. I need you to get into Starling City's vigilante's computer system."  
"Cap? Nice to hear from you too. Heard you got yourself a gal pal."  
"Can we do this after?"  
"We can do this while I'm breaking into some lame green guy's system. Seriously, what kind of showmanship is a green leather suit? Hardly original either. Can anyone say Robin Hood?"

Steve waited silently for Tony to do his thing. He had tried Felicity and Oliver and John at least a hundred times. He broke into Felicity's apartment, infuriated by finding nothing out of place. He tried QC by phone, and no one would tell him anything.

The only other person who might be able to help Steve locate her was Felicity's not-so law abiding friend. And he had no idea how to contact the city's resident night-time savior.

"Hel-lo, hel-lo!" Tony cat called. "I'm beginning to rethink the lame title. This kid has an impressive system. Not as impressive as me, but it'll do."  
"Are you in?"  
"Do you even know what that means?"

Steve shut up.

"What! No no no. Shit!"  
"Stark? Tony? What's wrong?"  
"Two can play your game! Ha! Take that...no? Alright, how about...alright, not that. Cheeky little thing you are. Jarvis? Can you do...thanks. Okay, okay, okay."

Steve listened to Tony mumble for nearly ten minutes before finally his cursing stopped.

"Yes...okay baby. Just a few more lines...oh yeah. And that's why they call me Iron Man ladies and gentleman. I'm in Cap."  
"I need you to tell me who the Arrow is."   
"Now Cap, you know that I don't believe in secret identities, but I don't condemn those who do."  
"Stark. Tell me."   
"Based on what I'm seeing, I have no idea."  
"What?"  
"There's nothing on this system."   
"Can't you find out where system is or something?"  
"Of course. That's not what you asked for though, is it?"  
"Stark, just--"  
"Looks like it's at some club. Um...Verdant. Know it?"  
"Yes. I do."

Steve couldn't believe this. The connections were piling up. It couldn't be that the Arrow also worked with Oliver Queen...though that did make at least a little sense.

"Looks like I'm in need of my dancing shoes Tony."  
"Well you have fun Cap. There's this new dance called grinding. I think it'll really take you back to the good 'ole mom-and-pop days of your youth."  
"Right. Thanks."

Sixteen minutes after his phone call with Tony, there was a rap at Steve's door.

"I hear we're going dancing," Natasha grinned.

*

Oliver paced. Sara and Diggle ran searches. Roy hovered.

None of them really seemed to know what to do without Felicity. Normally, she'd be the one typing away at her computers. Sure, Sara had gotten to know the systems pretty well, but Felicity was the one who designed it all. Knew how to find someone. They just floundered without her.

And that's what it felt like.

"Anything?" Oliver asked, again. The question was answered the same way it had been two minutes earlier: two shakes of Diggle's head.

Her absence was driving him mad. The foundry was too quiet, too dark without her presence. And the whole situation made no sense. Slade should have called by now, gloating about Felicity's capture, demanding Oliver meet him to watch her die.

But he wasn't going to watch the woman he loved die. There was no way in hell he was going to let that happen.

"Uh...guys?" Roy's voice called out. "We have visitors..."  
"What?" Diggle and Oliver turned and asked simultaneously.

Diggle reacted first, saluting.

Oliver just  glared.

"And what do we owe the pleasure, Captain America?"

*

Steve was distinctly thrown. It was clearly the Arrow's hide-out. There were arrows all over the place and the vigilante's costume was on display. And inside the hide-out were her friends. The only ones he knew. Was it a coincidence? Did all these people come to the Arrow for his help, only for him to not be here?

Steve didn't believe much for coincidences.

And that meant only one thing.

"Which one of you is the Arrow?"

Steve was met with silence, not something he was generally used to when dressed in his uniform. He glanced over at Natasha, who was being rather gawked at by the youngest. Roy, he thought Felicity had called him.

"This going well," Natasha remarked. "We need the Arrow's help. There's a jackass named Deathstroke kidnapping, torturing, etc. I'm sure you've heard of him."

*

Oliver growled. Had he heard of Slade? He was the one person on this earth that he wished he never met.

"Excuse us one minute," Diggle addressed their guests and pulled Oliver to a small corner. "This is Felicity we're talking about. We need to tell them Oliver."   
"We can find her ourselves. Didn't you hear? They came to us, to me, for help. We'll get her back."  
"I don't give a fuck about you right now Oliver. They are in. Do you hear me? I will kick your ass out of your own goddamn lair before I let them walk out of here."

Oliver knew Diggle was right. He was just doing what he always did. Taking everything on himself, without help. Like when he started. And now he wouldn't be able to do his night job without Felicity, without Diggle. What if letting in two members of the Avengers stopped him from being able to save Felicity in the future?

That wasn't something he wanted to risk.

But it didn't seem like Diggle was going to give him a choice.

Diggle and Oliver returned from the small corner, only to see Sara chatting lively with the Black Widow.

"I knew that was you!" Sara exclaimed. "Nys and I had a huge bet going. She thought it was Turgenov, but I told her there was a woman's touch in there."   
"It's so good to hear that. Turg always took credit where it wasn't due. It's no wonder he was killed."  
"So...you are familiar with each other's...work?" Roy asked, withdrawing inch by inch.  
"Mr. Queen, Mr. Diggle. Have you decided to help us?" Captain America addressed them, his authoritative voice quieting the lair.   
"Yes," Digg answered. "We are. On the condition you help us get back our friend Felicity. What can we do?"

*

Steve knew now that either Oliver Queen or John Diggle dressed up in green leather. He didn't bother telling them that, or that their goals were the same. Natasha did most of the talking, to avoid any voice identification of Steve. Plus, he didn't understand computers, and that seemed to be the only way the group of them were going to find her.

"May I?" Natasha gestured to the table of monitors.   
"Felicity doesn't let us touch her computers," Roy mumbled.

Natasha ignored the kid, and started typing furiously. Meanwhile, Steve was trapped in his thoughts. According to the young man, Felicity had ownership of the computers, which were in a dark basement where the vigilante kept his weapons. She was a lot more involved in this than she led Steve to believe.

"Got it. Parking lot video. Shows this woman," Natasha pointed to the screen, "pulling an unconscious Felicity out of what I assume is Felicity's vehicle." With a few more key strokes, Natasha pulled up a file on Isabel Rochev. "Ah, Mr. Queen. Your business partner Isabel seems to have kidnapped our dear Felicity. Can you confirm that's her?"

If looks could kill, Felicity's monitors would be dead, Steve thought, as he watched Oliver's eyes narrow.

"Yes, that's Isabel."   
"I'm using street camera history to trace the vehicle. Do you know why Isabel would want Felicity, Mr. Queen?"   
"To hurt me."   
"And why would she want to hurt you?"

Oliver gave them a two second storyline. Isabel wanted to ruin Queen Consolidated for personal reasons. Slade wanted to ruin Oliver for personal reasons.

He never elaborated on what those personal reasons were.

"She's at an old industrial site by the docks," Natasha announced.  
"You're sure?" John asked.  
"Yes. In fact, this information was a little too easy to find. Anyone half decent at this kind of stuff would have been able to find it." Steve smirked as he watched Felicity's friends bristle. Natasha was never that great at making friends. "I'm guessing that Deathstroke or Isabel wanted you to find it. To find her."  
"So it's a trap?" Roy turned from a quiver of arrows he was prepping.   
"Likely. But, the fact that you know that puts you ahead of them," Steve explained.   
"There's that, yes," Natasha added, "But I think the biggest thing on our side is that Deathstroke, and this Isabel bitch, aren't expecting a visit from the Avengers."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...worth the wait? Disappointed? Planning on e-mailing me with a thousand grammatical mistakes and typos? I hope its either the first one, or the last one :) 
> 
> Only two chapters left in this tale: The Whole Truth Part Two and Part Three
> 
> And then there might be a part 3 to the whole Steve/Felicity collection all about the first time Felicity meets each Avenger. But I also have so many Olicity fics swirling in my brain! The finale moment, Stephen Amell's acting chops, my heart melting! As always, let me know what you think & thanks for reading!


	10. The Whole Truth (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle of Slade and Felicity's heart...who will win?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for the delay in posting! Please, don't rip up my fight scenes...I know they aren't great. I tried and tried to edit them, I watched Arrow fight scenes on YouTube, and still, they aren't fantastic. 
> 
> Granted, if I called them fantastic, that'd be a little egotistical, wouldn't it? 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Isabel paced in front of Felicity, dragging the tip of her sword along the concrete floor. Slade had visited twice since Felicity came to, but only for a minute or two each time before he disappeared back to a room that overlooked the main floor of the warehouse.

Or at least that was where Felicity assumed he went based on the large shadow in the room that came and went with Slade.

Because Felicity had nothing else to do, and wasn't stupid enough to tackle a sword-wielding Isabel, she sat in the chair she was given and counted the seconds, minutes, and hours. If her counting was right, which is always was, she'd woken up four hours earlier.

Bored of tallying up passed time, Felicity did what she did best--she opened her mouth.

"Isabel?" she asked softly, afraid of angering the beast within the woman.  
"What?" Isabel snapped.  
"Could you explain to me why I'm here, or why you hate me, or anything really?"

Isabel smirked, obviously pleased that she had the upper hand. It only made Felicity hate her more.

"You are here because Slade wants Oliver to worry. To fret and stress about where his precious Felicity Smoak has disappeared to. And then, when the time is right, Oliver will get to watch you die. But first, before all that, you'll suffer too. And I'll enjoy that."

A shiver ran down Felicity's spine. How were Oliver and Diggle supposed to find her without their resident IT girl? She knew that no other Team Arrow members would be able to hack into Queen Consolidated's security system, since she was the one who wrote most of the code. They'd need to get security to show them, and that was assuming they even saw her car and knew she was missing.

 _Steve_ , Felicity thought with relief. She should have met him three hours ago. He would know she was missing. He would find her. He would save her from this mess.

"Why though? If I'm going to die, could I at least make amends for whatever I did that pissed you off?"  
"Whatever you did?" Isabel laughed, a little manically, Felicity decided. "Dear, sweet innocent girl, _you_ did absolutely nothing. My hatred for you is strictly Oliver Queen's fault. Certainly, before our rendezvous I never cared for you. The rumors around the office were enough for me to want you gone. A woman in a powerful man's bed can do wonders, Felicity. I needed Queen Consolidated and I feared you would prevent that."  
"But I was never in Oliver's bed, as I've mentioned, many times over to you and everyone that will listen. It doesn't seem to be helping," Felicity shrugged.  
"In the beginning I suspected differently, just like your colleagues. The only thing that made sense was that you and Oliver had a relationship. A beautiful, awkward woman and a beautiful ladies man? How could I not think that."  
"Thank you...?" Felicity stuttered, not sure what to make of Isabel's classification of her. She knew she was awkward, but she didn't appreciate Isabel pointing that out.  
"But then, when I was in Oliver's bed, do you know what name I heard?"  
"Isabel?" Felicity answered slowly, quirking an eyebrow with confusion.

The blade that had spent the last four hours (or more) carving a shallow line in the floor was now close to puncturing the skin on Felicity's throat. Isabel glowered over her, fire in her eyes and her body tense with fury. Tears leaked from the corners of Felicity's eyes, mostly with regret. Why couldn't she have just kept counting?!

"Isabel!" His booming, Australian voice echoed. "Leave. Now."

If Isabel was capable of pouting, Felicity would describe her look as just that. The blade, very slowly, left her throat, and Isabel disappeared into one of the many shadows in the large warehouse. Though Felicity could no longer see her, she felt confident the crazy woman hadn't gone very far.

"Are you alright, pet?" he asked, examining her neck. Felicity inhaled from surprise when Slade gently trailed his fingers along her cheek _. How can a man so evil smell so wonderful?_ , she marvelled.  
"Showers are one of man's greatest inventions," he chuckled.  
"Sorry, I do that sometimes. Say what I'm thinking...," Felicity pulled at the edges of her skirt, uncomfortable under Slade's stare. When he didn't respond, Felicity continued to babble. "So...you like showers too? It must be an island thing. Oliver's also a fan of long showers...not that I've noticed that first hand. Just, a general observation. A general _plutonic_ observation. I get why you stayed at Isabel's apartment now, since we both know it couldn't have been for her company. She's not exactly a ray of sunshine, but the showers in her building were pretty impressive."

Slade chuckled some more as he pulled up a chair in front of her.

"You really are an remarkable woman, Ms. Smoak."  
"So I hear," she smiled softly back.  
"Did I hear you right earlier? You were wondering why Ms. Rochev has so much distaste for you."  
"I think distaste is putting it mildly. I understand, just understand--not accept or agree with or think appropriate--why you want to hurt me--"  
"You do?" Slade said with disbelief.  
"Sure. What happened to the woman you loved caused you a lot of pain. You blame Oliver for that pain, and have focused that energy, that anger, on him. But I don't get Isabel's reasons. I have nothing to do with her and Oliver's father's affair--"  
"Precious Felicity," his tongue caressed her name, "her reasons are my reasons. She has just focused her energy on you rather than the kid."  
"But why?"

Slade smiled as he tossed back the chair, and for a moment Felicity figured he wouldn't explain the mystery of Isabel's vehemence. Before he disappeared back to his second floor hiding place, he turned to her with an amused grin.

"I think her tipping point had to do with their rendezvous in Russia."  
"But that had nothing to do with me."  
"Then why did Oliver call out your name, rather than hers?"

*    

Two costumed superheroes and two costumed vigilantes, along with an ex-military man and a kid in a red hoodie, made their way towards the docks. Oliver would have paused to think about how ridiculous his life had become if the woman who made his life worth living wasn't in dire need of all six combat-ready individuals.

"Digg, do you copy?" Oliver questioned his right-hand man.  
"Yeah, I have sights on eight of Slade's guys."

Diggle took the lead, assigning everyone to a entrance. Oliver was thankful Diggle had given him Sara as back-up. He was uncomfortable working with the two Avengers, and Roy wasn't ready to be on the front line. And he trusted Diggle to get Felicity out if something were to happen to him, so it only made sense for them to split up.

"Be safe," Digg added after giving them the go-ahead.

It only took a matter of seconds to render the three men guarding their assigned entrance unconscious. Oliver sent one of Felicity's new tranquilizer arrows into the arm of the biggest man while Sara slid underneath the closest of Slade's minions, taking her bo-staff to the back of his neck. The pair tag-teamed the remaining soldier with several strategically placed punches. It didn't take long for him to crumple to the ground with his friends.

"All clear," Sara announced.  
"We have eyes on Deathstroke, Rochev, and Smoak," Black Widow responded.

Sara growled at that, moving quickly towards the location that Black Widow was describing. She growled again when Black Widow announced her and Captain America were in position. Grabbing Oliver by the collar, Sara pulled him close enough so he could hear her whisper:

"Team Avenger is one-upping us Oliver. I'm not okay with that. Let's go get our girl and teach Slade a lesson."

*

Steve let out a deep breath. Felicity. She was okay. She was going to be safe.

"We have to get to her."  
"Yes Steve, I know," Natasha replied with little patience. "But before we get her, we need to incapacitate Deathstroke."

Natasha reached out and flipped back on his comm, then did the same to hers, telling the team that her and Steve were in position. When Sara responded in kind, Diggle chimed in.

"Roy and I will make our way to Felicity."  
"Be safe," Captain America mirrored Felicity's friend's earlier words, wishing that instead of taking on Deathstroke, he could be the one to save the woman he was very quickly falling in love with.

*

"Slade," Oliver bellowed.  
"My my kid, this _is_ entirely unexpected," Slade said, sounding anything but surprised. "What do I owe the pleasure?"  
"You know exactly why I'm here Slade. You will not hurt Felicity. She has nothing to do with your problem with me."  
"Oh but she does," Isabel spat. "She has everything to do with it. I'm going to love watching her squeal in agony. And Slade is going to love watching you do the same."  
"That's not going to happen," Oliver told them with confidence.  
"And you think you and your black-leather slut are going to stop us?" Isabel cackled.  
"I do. Because today we have a little help from some friends."

Oliver let loose an arrow aimed at Isabel just as Captain America and Black Widow burst into the small room. There was nothing but shock on his old mentor's face.

Slade clearly hadn't expected the pleasure of their company.

*

Steve went directly for the man responsible for injuring Felicity in that alleyway, scaring her into owning two weapons, and kidnapping her on their date night.

The only body part that of Slade that wasn't armoured was his face, so Steve focused his offense on Slade's jaw and connected immediately. Natasha ducked low, slicing Slade's leg while tossing an electrical device at a guard who heard the commotion and came running to his boss's aid.

Large fists came at Steve quickly, but he was just as fast, blocking each one before it made contact. Natasha injured Slade's other leg and another guard before joining Felicity's friends in their attack on Isabel, who seemed to be just barely holding her own against the pair of vigilantes.

Slade moved quickly in the second Steve checked in on the other battle, getting Steve in the stomach with his large, armored boot. He moved once more, aiming higher for Steve's chest, when an arrow sunk into the lifted leg. Oliver's well-timed arrow gave Steve the upper-hand, and he blocked Deathstroke once more. Using the momentum of Slade, he flung his enemy backwards, through the glass of the second story room where they were holed up.

He heard a snap as the glass shattered, and saw Sara's arms around Isabel's neck.

Felicity's words came back to him. She was right that people died in the field. There was good and bad, and sometimes you needed to cross the line during a fight. But Sara didn't need to kill the woman she had been fighting. Not with the three to one numbers they had.

The fact that Felicity had such dangerous friends, ones that didn't make sound field calls when it came to life and death, made him very uncomfortable. And he couldn't stop from wondering would Oliver do the same?

*

Oliver followed Steve through the broken glass and down to the first floor where Slade landed. Roy and Diggle had clearly gotten Felicity out, for there was only an angry Slade and an empty chair.

"Seems as though I won't be listening to Felicity scream in agony," Oliver taunted.  
"But you can still scream Oliver Queen," Slade retorted, throwing a dagger directly at his heart.

Oliver ducked, waiting for the sharp pain of a knife wound, but it didn't come. There was only the clang of metal on metal as Captain America's shield countered Slade's perfect aim. Without pause, the Captain charged, giving Oliver enough time to send three more arrows into Slade.

Sara and the Black Widow joined the fight after the last of Oliver's arrows penetrated Slade's armor, both only getting in a few hits before Slade collapsed to a knee. With one more punch to his jaw from Captain America, and a single electrical shock from the Black Widow's toys, Slade was rendered unconscious.

Oliver hovered over the man who had once been his mentor, his friend, his savior. He couldn't cure him., but he couldn't kill him either.

"Do you have holding facilities for a man of this strength?" Oliver asked the two Avengers.  
"Ollie, what are you doing?" Sara asked, shocked, "Kill him. He can't be cured. He needs to die."  
"No Sara. That's not who I am anymore." He faced the Avengers once more. "So, do you have somewhere that can hold him? Or, better yet, cure him?"  
"We do," the Black Widow answered without hesitation, and then pulled out her phone. She spoke quickly and authoritatively to whomever was on the other end.  
"They're on their way," she stated.  
"Digg, it's all clear. Where are--"

There was no need to ask. He saw a flash of bright lips and the bounce of a blonde ponytail as she rushed toward him, and he couldn't stop the grin that spread over his face. He decided at that moment he was going to tell her. He was going to tell her how he felt and they were going to be fine. She was safe, and the Avengers would never let Slade get near her again. For a moment, he was happy.

His grin faltered as Felicity detoured away from him, and towards another.

*   

She wrapped her body around Steve's, jumping into his arms and laying a kiss on his lips.

"I knew you'd come," she whispered into his ear.  
"You do know you're kind of spoiling my whole secret identity thing, right?"

She could feel his grin against her face and knew that, even if what he said was true, he wasn't angry about it. Pulling back to look at him, she realized he was in his full get up, and that Natasha was in hers. She glanced around, seeing her Team Arrow gaping.

"Uh...," she stammered.

Steve apparently took pity on her, taking off his mask after settling her back on her feet.

"Surprise?" she joked.

The gaping didn't stop.

For a while.

*

Two days. It had been two days since he witnessed Felicity's make-out session with Mr. Captain Fucking America and he couldn't get it out his mind. All those times he saved her. If she'd known how he felt would she have run into his arms? Would she have whispered secrets in his ear? Would they have laughed awkwardly when the rest of the team gaped?

The worst wasn't the fantasizing. He had fantasized plenty about Felicity wrapping those beautiful legs around his waist. It was that Steve Rogers was so fucking good for her. He was Captain Fucking America, for Christ's sake! The best guy around. The guy who knew right from wrong. The guy who had old-fashioned morals. The guy all the girls swooned over, and apparently also the guy that Diggle and Roy swooned over.

The worst was that this perfect guy could also protect her from anything.

Because he was Captain Fucking America.

"So...how's Steve?" Sara cooed.

God, Oliver was so fucking sick of that question. Diggle asked it. Roy asked it. And Sara was the worst, asking it every time she came and went.

Oliver refused to ask.

And it wasn't like he had to. Everyone else asked enough that he knew the answer backwards and forwards.

"He's good," she'd say. Or some variation of that, like fine, or okay, or great.

But this time was different.

"He actually just texted. Like, two seconds ago. Oliver?" she called.  
"Yeah?"  
"Slade is 100% locked up and they have their best people looking into developing something to counteract, at the very least, his hallucinations. I think they might work on the strength part after they've got him acting a little less crazy. They've also got some psychologists working with him, so that sounds positive."  
"Thanks for the update."  
"No problem."  
"So when's your next date?" Sara asked.

That was the question Oliver dreaded, and he always knew it was coming. Sara couldn't seem to stop herself.

It seemed ridiculous that the question even needed asking. Between Felicity's tone when she talked about Steve, and the image of the two of them that was recently burned into his brain, it was obvious that the next date was imminent.

Usually, Felicity would just say that they hadn't had a moment to talk about it. But this time, again, was different. She asked Sara if her and Oliver could have a minute, and since no one could refuse their IT girl, Sara disappeared up the steps to the bar.

"Oliver, can we talk?"  
"Sure thing," he said, anything but sure.

She handed him a piece of paper, addressed to him as CEO of Queen Consolidated.

"What's this?"  
"I'm leaving."  
"Leaving QC?"  
"Leaving Starling. For a little while. Stark Industries has offered me a really great opportunity. And, with technology being what it is, I can still help you with your night time activities, even though the time change will be tricky, but I've already explained that to Tony and we've worked out a schedule that I think will work great."

Oliver was blind-sided.

She was leaving.

She couldn't leave.

"You can't," he blurted, before realizing that was the wrong thing to say.  
"I can't?" she asked him in a voice eerily close to her loud voice.

"I just mean, you can't leave without knowing all your options."  
"I knew you would do this, so I already signed a contract. I can't break it without penalty."  
"I'll pay the penalty."  
"No Oliver. How many times do I have to say this? My life, my choice. I'm choosing to take this opportunity for my career. It's really interesting stuff that Tony wants me to work on and in all honesty I would be crazy to pass it up. I'm hoping that you'll let me continue working with you, with Team Arrow, but if you don't...well, if you don't, John still will, so regardless of what you think, you're still stuck with me."

And then she stuck out her tongue.

God, she was adorable.

"Are you moving because of your career or because of Steve?"  
"You're really digging yourself into a hole Oliver. Steve is moving back to New York, but he's moving back because I'm moving there. If I didn't take Tony's offer, I would still be in Starling and so would Steve."  
"Felicity," he swallowed the lump building in his throat, "I don't want you to go. I need you...I love--."  
"No."  
"Yes. Felicity, I--"  
"No Oliver. You do not get to say those words to me. You and I, we've always had a connection. We both know that. And I think we both knew how I felt, what with the Freudian slips and well, you being you, billionaire hero who looks like...that. At least, it was clear enough that you could have made a move and guess what, not gotten rejected. But today you are getting rejected Oliver because you know what? You already broke my heart."

Oliver wasn't surprised that Felicity was angry. He figured this would go one of two ways. He had hoped for the option where she cried a little before jumping into his arms and laying kisses all over his face rather than her loud voice, but he was prepared for that.

He hadn't been prepared for her to not let him get the words out.

Or for her to reject him.

Or for her confession that he'd already broken her heart.

"Felicity, when? What did I do?"  
"You're shitting me right? No? You're not? Oh my God Oliver, you're an idiot. Remember that time, just a few short months ago, that you told me you couldn't be with someone you care about? And then, about two seconds later, when you got together with _someone you care about_! When that happened, we were done. You had my heart. I thought...I thought you were waiting until you were ready. But then, with Sara, I was happy for you. But it broke my heart. You broke it. Over and over and _over_ again. That though, you loving Sara, God, that was the end of it for me. So no, Oliver. No you do not get to say those words to me. You do not get to tell me anything that's going to break my heart into smaller pieces when I've finally met someone who's putting it back together."

She gathered up a few of the personal things she kept around her desk, and furiously stuffed them into her purse.

"I'm moving next Saturday. I think it would be better if I didn't come by the Foundry in the meantime. If you need any IT expertise, you can text or call or send John or Roy or Sara."  
"Felicity...just...can we not talk about this? Can I not tell you how I've felt, how I've been feeling--"  
"No. No Oliver you can't. You get to bottle it up, just like I did when you slept with the enemy, made up the worst excuse of all time--seriously Oliver, ALL time--which then, surprise surprise, was a lie. I am happy Oliver. I am happy with Steve. He is a wonderful man."  
"But he isn't your soulmate."  
"And that's what you think you are?" she scoffed. "You've had three soulmates since I met you Oliver Queen. First, the love of your life, your eternal flame, Miss Laurel Lance. Then, enter your crazy psycho The Huntress...yes, Diggle told me. He told me how you were convinced she was the only one who could understand you, the only one that could get you. And then, Sara. Who I love, I really do. But yeah...you treated her the same way. All soulmatey. So you can't throw that word around with me, because I know how little value you place on that word."

Oliver opened his mouth once more to fight, but Felicity stomped up the stairs before he could think of what to say. He couldn't find the words because everything she said was true. But he wouldn't have thrown around the word soulmate with those other women if he'd been honest with himself about how his feelings for her.

Because he had never felt about anyone the way he felt about Felicity Smoak.

And he wasn't going to give up that easily.

But first, first he needed a drink.

*

Felicity was pissed. And confused. And pissed.

Goddamn Oliver Queen.

She pressed Steve's contact and prayed he would pick up. She just needed to hear him. Needed to focus on him, on her move to New York, on what was best for her.

And that was moving to New York.

Taking the new job.

Dating Steve Rogers.

It was not getting dragged down into Oliver Queen's rabbit hole.

"Felicity."

She could hear the smile on his face.

"Hi. How's it going?"  
"Better."  
"I'm already to head to New York. Well, almost except for the packing...," she noted, which, other than handing in her resignation letter to Oliver was the only thing she needed to do. He chuckled, and that sound solidified Felicity's gut feeling.

She was making the right choice.

New York was the right choice.

Steve was the right choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two chapters left. Chapter 11 will be a bonus feature, because I like what I wrote but didn't really fit in anywhere nice. 
> 
> Based on feedback, I've decided to do a Felicity-Steve endgame in Chapter 12, and then a Felicity-Oliver endgame in Chapter 13. So you can choose your own ending or enjoy both. Thanks so much to everyone for giving me such passionate comments & feedback!


	11. Oliver's Drink (A Bonus Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little clip, featuring Natasha and Oliver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't anything big or fancy...I just wrote it and couldn't find a good place for it in chapter 10 or the last chapter.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he was greeted by a redhead he expected never to see again. _Except at Steve and Felicity's wedding_ , his traitorous brain supplied.

"Natasha, nice to see you again. Can I offer you a drink?"   
"Shot of vodka. Russian. I came to give you some details on Deathstroke's imprisonment."  
"That's awfully nice of S.H.I.E.L.D., keeping me in the loop," Oliver mused as he filled two shot glasses with his favourite Russian vodka. He slid a glass to Natasha, who tossed it back like a pro.  
"Thank Steve."

He didn't mean to snort, but the mention of thanking the jackass who was stealing Felicity away from him was ludicrous.

"It's a bitch isn't it," Natasha said, as she took the bottle from Oliver and poured herself another.  
"What?"  
"Being in love."

Oliver glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. No way she was drunk and opening up after two measly shots of vodka.

"Oh don't give me that look, Queen. I know, just like you know, that you're in love with the blonde. And I get it. She's great."  
"She is."

A long, comfortable silence filled the room. The only sounds were of vodka being poured, and shot glasses being slammed.

"So is he," Natasha finally said, her soft tone breaking the silence.

Oliver gave her another glance and it dawned on him that they were in the same situation.

"I've known how I've felt about Felicity since the moment I met her. But I didn't feel ready until recently to pursue how I felt. How long have you known that you love Steve, and what's holding you back?"  
"For those answers, Queen, we're going to need another bottle."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this snippet!


	12. Choose Your Own Adventure - Steve & Felicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve & Felicity's happily ever after. Enjoy!

Felicity could hardly believe she'd been living the life she'd been living for six months.

How the geeky daughter of a Las Vegas cocktail waitress and a M.I.A. father managed to snag the career of her dreams, amazing friends, and a boyfriend who was literally the _original_ superhero was beyond her reasoning capabilities.

Her phone buzzed, interrupting her focus on the new code for Tony's new clean-energy reactor. She didn't mind when she glanced down and Diggle's face greeted her.

"Diggle! How's Lyla?"  
"She's doing real well. The pickle craving has stopped, thankfully, so we don't need any more gifts Felicity. I'm serious. No more."

Felicity laughed, picturing Diggle's disgusted, scrunched face. He had not enjoyed the pickle phase of Lyla's pregnancy, and he cursed Felicity for encouraging his new-again wife. The moment Felicity heard about Lyla's preferences, she hit up New York's markets and sent the largest gift basket she could make, filled with all of the best pickled things a girl could ask for. Diggle had been particularly un-fond of the eggs.

"That's a pity John. The picklers of New York will be crushed!"  
"I'm sure. What about you? How are you? Steve?"  
"He's great. We're great. Everything is great. I was actually just thinking about the how surreal the level of greatness in my life is."  
"You deserve it Felicity."  
"Thanks. As much as I love hearing that, and your handsome voice, is this a personal catch-up call, or do you need me to find you something?"  
"Just a personal call today. Wanted to make sure you didn't mail us anymore disgusting food. Though, come to think of it, Oliver mentioned an update to the system was probably needed soon."  
"Yes. I actually have a bright pink post-it note with that to-do item. He called me at lunch earlier today to ask if I could do that."   
"Good. I'm glad you two kids patched things up."   
"Me too," Felicity smiled. She wasn't sure if her and Oliver were going to be able to move past that night so many months ago, but they were managing, and getting better at it over time. "How's his hacking coming along? We had to postpone our last Skype lesson because he had a date with the paintball place girl. He said it went pretty well."  
"It must have been since there's been a grin on his face for two days. And he's getting there with the hacking. He's no Felicity Smoak...yet."  
"Or ever," Felicity laughed. "The mentee can't surpass the mentor, Diggle. That would be like Oliver getting arms bigger than you. Impossible. And as much as I could talk about supersized arms all day, could we maybe have a longer chat tomorrow? I have some code I need to finish up, and then some long-distance computer updating for my night job, and then, a date!"  
"Sure thing. We'll talk tomorrow. Lyla will probably want to chit-chat too, live vicariously through you and your big date tonight with the Captain."  
"She doesn't have to live vicariously through me Digg. She has you. Give everyone my love?"  
"Will do."

*

 _Tonight is the night_ , Steve thought, as he placed more candles around his apartment. There were already enough to warrant a severe fire hazard, but everything he read said how candlelight was the most romantic, most flattering, most perfect light.

Therefore, candles were a necessity.

But..being the boy scout everyone knew him to be, he may have purchased flameless candles.

No fire hazard.

Perfect lighting.

The moment he realized he was ready for tonight, he started a list. Nearly a month had passed since then, since the night he walked by the shelves of condoms at the drug store looking for cough drops for a very sick Felicity.

He bought a package, with no intention of using them right away.

It was his first time. And it was with Felicity.

It needed to be perfect.

Hence, the list.

Item number one, condoms, had been crossed off since that night. Research, item number two, he crossed off that very morning, feeling prepared after the books he read and the videos he watched. Hiding his research had been the bigger the issue...

_"Steve, what's this?" Felicity asked, holding up a VHS tape and searching for the VHS player.  
"Oh, it's nothing. Just a wedding video."_

That wasn't a lie. It had started with a wedding, after all...

_"Could you pass me my book?" He asked her. She nodded sleepily at him, grabbing at the table beside her for the book. Steve's heart jumped into his throat when he realized what book she grabbed._

Thankfully, she was too sleepy to notice she was handing him the book, _How to Have Sex_. She almost found out about it, though, the very next day...

_They had gone into the bookstore down the block from their favourite pizza place. Steve loved it because it was the same as it had been in the 30's, and Felicity loved it because Steve loved it (and because the pizza was so good, she'd always defend). It was the store where Steve had been purchasing a lot of his how-to books (Sex for Dummies, Kama Sutra, Guide to Getting It On...there were no shortage). The lady at the register recognized him, and, with a wink, asked how those books were helping him out in the bedroom._

He answered with an uncomfortable shrug before remembering a fake appointment with Pepper that Felicity and him had to rush to. Pepper, luckily, had nothing going on, so she gladly met them for lunch. When Felicity asked about the book-store attendant's question, Steve told her he'd been trying out some feng shui.

The next day he bought a book on feng shui. And re-arranged his bedroom accordingly.

He hated the new furniture arrangement. But he hated lying to Felicity more.

*

Felicity walked up the stairs to her apartment. It was two buildings down from Steve's place, which she liked. It was nice being close, but still having the independence of her own place at this stage in their relationship.

He asked her once, early in her move to New York City, if she'd like to stay with him.

But she wasn't comfortable sharing an apartment and not a bed.

And, if they shared a bed, they were going to have sex. The chemistry between them when they did everything but have sex made that clear.

Felicity didn't mind the no-sex, per say. She was glad they didn't rush into it, considering how much she rushed him on the intimacy in the beginning (oral sex with Captain America on date number two? Yeah, she de-flowered him). But God, she wanted him inside of her.

And he knew that. She moaned it into his mouth just two nights before while she was clenching around his fingers.

She knew their time was coming. She'd come across quite a bit of evidence in Steve's apartment and in his browser history that he was thinking about it (not that she looked specifically for evidence in his browser history! She was trying to find a recipe she thought she bookmarked the week before).

She didn't expect spaghetti night to be the night.

*

All the items were checked off. The table was set, the spaghetti smelled perfect, the candles were "lit", and Steve was no longer dripping in nervous sweat (since he walked out of the shower not two minutes before Felicity's tell tale rap on his door).

Even though he always left it open when he knew she was coming, she still knocked. And he'd razz her about it when he opened the door.

And he opened his mouth to do just that.

But he didn't have a chance because she captured it in a kiss. She curled her delicate hands around his neck to pull him closer and tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth.

"Hi," she smiled when they both opened their eyes.   
"Hi."  
"I realized you can't tease me for knocking if your mouth is otherwise occupied."  
"I'm going to have to start teasing you non-stop then, about anything and everything."

She laughed, and then, when her eyes moved past Steve and into the room behind him, choked.

"What...I...candles?"

Now it was Steve's turn to laugh. He clasped Felicity's hand and led her to her usual chair, which he pulled out for her. As usual, Felicity reprimanded him lightly, explaining that they were living in the 21st century. But he heard her one day talking to Pepper, when he stopped by the office to see both her and Tony, and she was praising how much of a gentleman Steve was, about how his old-fashioned ways really made her swoon.

So he didn't stop.

*

"Is it our anniversary?" Felicity feared. She searched her brain for the importance of the current date and she was coming up empty. They had their six month anniversary already, going out to Coney Island and the aquarium for the day. It wasn't the anniversary of any of their dates, or of Slade's defeat (which wasn't exactly something that would call for romantic candles), or of her move to the Big Apple.   
"No, Felicity, it isn't our anniversary. Or any anniversary," he told her, as if reading her thoughts.   
"Then why the candles?"  
"Is it wrong that I want to have a romantic spaghetti dinner with my girlfriend?"  
"No...," she said cautiously.   
"Alright then. Tell me about your day."

Steve commanded this of Felicity every day, whether in person or on the phone. He truly loved hearing every detail of the moments he didn't spend by her side. She launched into the tale of her day, starting with the breakfast she had with Pepper and their run-in with Tony:

"He thought she was seeing someone else. Really, she's just been planning a birthday party for him...which was supposed to be a surprise, until he forced it out of her."  
"He's a hothead. A nosy hothead. Pepper really should know better at this point."  
"That's pretty much how she summed it up."

Steve chuckled, and Felicity's heart warmed at the sound (which seemed impossible, considering how the candle-light had already heated her up from head to toe). This man, this man that she loved, was the most wonderful thing that had happened in her life.

And with that thought, she quietly stood, keeping her eyes locked on his and smiling when his eyebrows quirked. Without a word, she moved to his lap and kissed him softly.

*

Steve had been most nervous about how to broach the subject of making love to Felicity. It was the one thing the books hadn't really covered.

Now that her lips were on his, he made up his mind on how to broach the subject.

He braced under her legs with his arm, rubbing soft circles into the skin just north of her knee. Without breaking their kiss, he stood and walked them towards his bedroom. The woman in his arms was so focused on him, on running her hands through the whisker of hair on the back of his neck, clasping his t-shirt as if it were her lifeline, and peppering every inch of his skin with cherry red lipstick that she didn't notice where he brought her until he set her down on the soft mattress.

"Steve?" she searched his face, looking away only to glance at the candles and rose petals that littered the room.   
"I want to be with you in every way Felicity Smoak."  
"Me too. You though," she giggled, "Every way with you."

Felicity crawled backwards on the bed and Steve followed, holding himself an inch above her. She kissed him again, hooking her long legs around his and pulling him towards her. He let his body sink into hers, and Felicity moaned with pleasure.

*

She explored the solid edges of Steve's body with her hands, and the hard bulge in his pants with her hips. She could feel him shudder with anticipation, and wanting to get round one moving forward, she quickly relieved Steve of his shirt, and moved his hands to her own.

He wasn't as fast as she'd been, slowly dragging the hem line and kissing and nipping at each new inch of exposed skin. When he reached her bra, he tugged the cups down, much like their first time making out, and circled each peaked nipple with his tongue until Felicity's toes curled on their own accord and his name rolled off her tongue.

"Steve...," she called out breathlessly, clawing at his shoulders and twitching to the rhythm of his tongue.

Steve flipped them over and Felicity was never so pleased to be straddling someone. His eyes were dark and glued to her as she teased him, running her fingers along his waistline and her nipples as she writhed on top.

*

The vixen was playing with the waistband of his shorts, an amused expression on her face. He planned on asking her why she was so amused, but then her hands began to tweak her nipples at the same pace as her hips grinded down on him, and his brain stopped thinking about her amusement.

He watched her for a few moments before joining in on her pleasure, tucking his hand beneath her skirt and tracing patterns higher and higher on her thighs. It didn't take long for his fingers to find their entry or for Felicity to call out his name again, followed by a string of curses he'd gotten used to hearing.

"I want you...now," she demanded, pulling at his pants, when she came down from her orgasm. He lifted his hips to help her release him from the confines of his pants and boxers, and finally laid in front of this beautiful woman, fully exposed and ready.

*

Steve pulled the zipper of Felicity's skirt down, but couldn't quite seem to understand how to remove it while she sat astride him. With a smirk, she stood up and shimmied, shaking exactly what her mother gave her. Empowered by her two orgasms, she decided to give Steve a slightly different view when she removed her panties.

Turning her backside to him, she gradually dragged the fabric down her legs and while bending over.

"Sex from this direction can be pretty fantastic," she told him with a whisper, turning her head so she could see his wide eyes.   
"I read that," he eventually stumbled.  
"You did? Where?"

He listed off a library worth of books, and Felicity giggled at his eagerness to educate himself.

*

Felicity positioned herself over his tip once she rolled on a condom on him. She'd given him a few licks and pumps before, and he almost lost it. Willing himself to keep it in check long enough to give her a third orgasm, he clenched every muscle in his body, waiting for the moment.

"Relax," she murmured, as she sunk onto him.

And the feeling was indescribable.

Nothing in the books had prepared him for the feeling of being connected with Felicity.

*

She was shocked he lasted more than a few minutes. And even more shocked he'd coaxed a third orgasm out of her by massaging her insides with his cock, and her clit with his thumb.

Captain America really was Captain Amazing.

*

Felicity called for round two three hours later, after the dined on a second helping of spaghetti in bed.

This time, she requested that Steve be on top, and after warming him up in her mouth (not that he needed it after watching her traipse around his apartment in not a stitch of clothing), he did exactly as she directed.

And Felicity directed them both to unravel. 

*

"I love you," Steve whispered, pulling Felicity even closer to his body. Felicity was positive she'd never smiled as big as in that moment.   
"I love you too," she whispered back.

And even though that morning Felicity couldn't comprehend  how her life could be better, she now knew that it was possible.

Because Steve loved her.

And she loved Steve.

And that made anything possible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! If you're interested in the Olicity ending, stay tuned. If not, I'd like to take this moment to thank you for reading, for your comments, for your kudos, and for your patience! 
> 
> Also, I apologize for the delay. My computer had several issues...which as I'm sure you all know are never fun!


	13. Choose Your Own Adventure - Olicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver & Felicity's happily ever after. Enjoy!

Felicity unpacked her last suitcase, grateful she chose to sublet her place rather than break the lease. It would have been a pain in the ass to find a new place in Starling, and she couldn't stay in New York. Thankfully, Tony had no issues with her working from afar, so she didn't have to worry about finding a new job while she was adjusting back into her old life.

Things hadn't ended badly with Steve, just not well enough for her to continue working closely with his best pal and sometimes co-worker.

Really, the whole thing was awkward more than anything else.

"She loves you, you know," Felicity told him one afternoon, fed up with him not acknowledging the obvious feelings his colleague had for him. She realized how ironic this was early on in her relationship with Steve, but couldn't keep quiet. Honestly, it might have saved her a lot of trouble if someone had just come out and said that to her, or even to Oliver.

Of course, Steve was dumbfounded, just as she imagined her or Oliver would have been under a similar circumstance.

"What? Who?" He had asked. She congratulated herself when she was able to say her name, without rolling her eyes or snarling.  
"Natasha, Steve. Natasha loves you."

He had sputtered and stuttered and denied it. And she let him. She revisited it a week later, after Natasha had been severely injured on a mission. One look at his face, and she knew the love Natasha held for Steve wasn't one sided.

"You love her too," Felicity said sadly, with matching tears running down her cheeks.

And this time, Steve didn't sputter. He didn't stutter. And he didn't deny it.

*

Diggle had told him three days ago that she was coming back. He thought of nothing but her for 72 hours. Who was he kidding? He'd been thinking about her non-stop for four months. It was only in the last 72 hours that he focused his thoughts on what his first words to her in months should be.

They hadn't talked since that night. He tried, after downing that bottle of vodka, to tell her the truth, but she shut him out until she was on the other side of the country. For four months, he was one of seven people she sent e-mail updates to. Photos of her in Central Park, or on top of the Empire State Building, or in front of the Charging Bull. Stories about how awesome her job and Tony Stark's toys were, or about the pizza crawl she ate her way through, or about her first NFL game.

He always typed an e-mail response. He just never sent them.

And just as she had predicted, Diggle kept her in the loop on Team Arrow's missions. She ran searches, got them intel, and kept her computers updated from New York. But she only talked to Diggle. Never to him.

So he thought long and hard about what he needed to say. He wasn't sure if he should admit everything right away, or give her time to settle back into Starling, or even just keep tight-lipped about how he felt until she brought it up. He still hadn't decided when he heard the foundry's door beep.  

"Hi Oliver," she greeted, skipping down the stairs and sitting in front of her computer, as though she hadn't been on the other side of the country, ignoring him, for four months.   
"Hi," he grunted.

 _What was that Queen?_ He scolded himself. _You get her back and your greet her like a jackass. Smooth._

"How was your drive back?" He tried again, sounding much more pleasant but not at all sincere. He knew Felicity heard that in his tone, because she turned her chair around to face him, her earlier smile gone.   
"Is it not okay that I'm here Oliver?"  
"Of course it's okay Felicity."    
"Then why do you sound like that?"

He rubbed his hand over his face. How was he supposed to tell her that the last four months were the worst of his life? And, considering his time in purgatory, that was saying something. Instead, he started with the one word he felt like saying to her more than any other:

"Sorry."

She gave him that look. The one that tugged at his heart, because it was her asking for him to explain, and him wanting to, so badly, but never opening up.

"I'm just...tired," he partially lied. He was tired. He didn't think he slept right since the night he fell asleep on her sofa, surrounded by her scent and the soft sound of her breath.  
"Oliver...," she let out a huge sigh, "It's me. I'm at fault here. I'm sorry for leaving like I did. It was wrong."   
"You have nothing to apologize for Felicity."  
"Then why are you mad at me?"

Her chin quivered and Oliver knew she was holding back tears. He crossed the room and gathered her into a hug, tightening his arms around her as she let out a sob.

"You didn't write me back," she cried softly.  
"I did Felicity. I did. I just, I couldn't send them. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

*   

It took her a few minutes to notice what Oliver had said. She pushed at his chest so she could look up at him, watch his face, his biggest tell. He didn't unwrap his arms from her, just loosened them a little to meet her eyes.

"Why couldn't you send the e-mails?"  
"I didn't think you wanted to hear from me."  
"Oliver." She closed her eyes, shaking her head. Looking back at him, she explained. "If I didn't want to hear from you, I wouldn't have sent you an e-mail in the first place. It was an olive branch...of sorts. Not a very good one obviously...."

Felicity knew it wasn't the perfect peace offering. She had shut down on Oliver when he was opening up, which is something he never did, so it made it a thousand times worse that she had turned around and run out of his life like she had. Diggle was the one who had suggested the e-mail route, thinking it would maybe help break the ice.

But it didn't.

And now they just had four months of pent up feelings and misunderstandings between them.

*

Of course he should have responded. He was an idiot. Diggle had even pressed him to write back to her, and when he didn't, Diggle gave him that disappointed look he was so fond of. Now the pressure, and that look, made a lot more sense.

"Why don't we just start from that night?" she suggested lightly, as if it were the easiest thing in the world for him to go back to that moment. To that desperation he felt when she told him she was leaving. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he wanted to do it right, for once.  
"I can't Felicity."

He didn't want to overwhelm her, and starting from that night would overwhelm them both.

"Oliver," she almost growled, pushing back at him, breaking his embrace. "We both know what you were going to say that night. And we both know that you meant it! So can we please just lay all of our cards on the table and move forward? Can you just tell me what you think about me? About us?"  
"Fine," he hissed back. "You want to know what my main thought is when it comes to you? I. Am. Not. Good. Enough. That's what I think, everything I'm near you. That I don't deserve you. That I don't deserve being happy. And Felicity, you are it. You are my happy story. A happy story that a man like me shouldn't have. That good for you? My cards, laid out?."

*

She hated when he did this. When he put himself down like this, thinking he wasn't worthy of good things. It made her angry before, but tonight it made her snap.

"Right!" she rolled her eyes, frustrated. "Because a guy who puts himself on the line every night to better this city doesn't deserve to be happy. A man who has lived through five years of madness and fear and anger and pain...that man hasn't already paid for sins that every single fucking teenage makes, or that any survivor would make. We've been over this Oliver. You are not a killer. You've killed people, to survive, not for pleasure, or for money, or for gain."

Oliver opened his mouth, but she put her hand over it, stopping him from talking.

"And, on another note, I don't want to be on this pedestal you keep putting me on. We're both people Oliver. People make mistakes. I am not perfect! You are not perfect! I know both of those things, and it's about time you learn that too."

He stood there, silent, even when her hand dropped. She waited for him to say something, anything at all, and when he didn't, she didn't want to be there anymore. With a shake of her head, she picked up her purse and climbed the foundry's stairs muttering about Oliver's stunted emotional growth.

*

Oliver watched her walk away. _Again_. He couldn't do this. He couldn't be without her. Not even for a moment. He knew this. He just needed Felicity to know it too.

Taking the steps two at a time, he caught up with her just outside the foundry's door. He caught her wrist and silenced her grumble with his lips.

*

Felicity's frustration with Oliver Fucking Queen dissipated as his tongue intertwined with hers and his hands grabbed at her backside. Before she could form a coherent thought, her body was being pressed into the cold metal of the foundry door and her legs, on their own accord, were wrapping themselves tightly around his waist.

"Oliver," she moaned when he moved his lips down her neck, stopping at a particular sensitive spot that sent chills and heat through her. "Oliver," she said again, more firmly and less heady, trying to bring them back, and out of this spell they were clearly under.   
"Felicity," he mumbled against her collarbone.  
"What...what are you...we...just wait...Oliver. Oliver!"

*

Oliver pulled back, meeting her eyes. He hadn't planned on them getting into this compromising position, though he wasn't ready to let her feet back on the ground, so instead, he just gripped her tighter.

His original plan, as he climbed the stairs, was to tell her the same thing he told her when she was off in Central City with Barry. That he needed her. And then, maybe, he would have followed that up with confessing an ounce of his feelings for her, and finally, asking her out on a date.

He didn't mean to skip over that and kiss her instead.

But he'd been wanting to kiss her for months, years really and that desire finally trumped his self control.

And now he couldn't stop thinking about how she tasted.

"Felicity," he gazed into her eyes, "I need you in my life. I want you, like this--" he leaned in and kissed her aggressively "--but if you don't want that--"

Oliver didn't get a chance to finish that sentence. Felicity grabbed him by his shirt and pulled his lips back to hers. She moved them along the stubble that spanned his chin, along his jawline, and to his earlobe which she nipped before whispering, "I want you too."

*

She didn't, however, want their first time to be up against the foundry's door. And they were getting desperately close to that, as Oliver ravaged her neck and collarbone and inched his hands towards her centre.

"Oliver, Oliver...I need you to stop."  
"Mmmm."  
"I'm serious. My first Oliver induced orgasm, well induced by you, in person, not that...nevermind...it's not going to be in this alleyway."

That seemed to sober him, because he stopped his lips and his hands to look at her.

"You were close?" He smirked, and she smacked him playfully.   
"Bring me back to this penthouse of yours, and you'll find out."

And for the first time in the two years she'd known Oliver Queen, he grinned like he wasn't being dragged down by the weight of the world.   

*

As they drove (well over the speed limit), Oliver took the time to be honest with her. He told her that he hadn't planned on kissing her just now, but that it was something he wanted to do for pretty much ever.

He told her that she wasn't wrong that he used the word love and soulmate to describe the other women in his life. But explained that it wasn't until he acknowledged his feelings for her that he knew he'd never used either of those words in the way he should have.

He told her that his life without her sucked and that she was never to leave him again unless he was allowed to come too.

*

She was surprised at how the night was turning out. She'd been nervous to go to the foundry, especially knowing Diggle wasn't going to be there as a buffer. Granted, she knew it was for the best that Diggle wasn't there. No one knew better than her that the pair of them needed to clear the air.

She hadn't expected clearing the air to end up with passionate kisses, with sweet honesty, and with her, soon to be naked, in Oliver's penthouse.

*

The heat between them returned as Oliver led her into the penthouse. It had been difficult living here, in the penthouse he knew Felicity selected, while she'd been gone. He tried sleeping in the foundry instead, but that was no better. It was their home, and without her it felt empty.

And now, with her, here, in his home and returning his love, he'd never felt less empty.

Once he slid the locks, he turned to the woman he was crazy for, ready to pick her up and bring her to his bedroom, hopefully soon-to-be their bedroom.

But his plan fell through when Felicity lunged at him.

Oliver was grateful for her enthusiasm. He could be tender, and he fully intended on being tender at some point that night, but right now he really needed to make her come.

She tore off his shirt, and he returned the favour, taking her bra with it. He opted to rip her skirt rather than deal with the zipper, and then stood back, drinking in the sight of _his_ girl, standing before him in colourful panties and nothing else.

"You are beautiful," he murmured, fiddling with the button of his pants. Felicity ended up taking care of it for him, stripping him of both the pants and his boxers in one swoop. She took him in her mouth, kneeling before him, and hummed. Felicity sucked and licked and dug her nails into Oliver's perfect ass, and even though he wanted to make her come first, she beat him to it.

She swallowed everything he gave her as he moaned her name. When he uttered his final "Fuck", she kissed her way back to his mouth, taking extra time caressing and kissing each scar.

"Bed?" she asked between kisses.  
"Yes."

He scooped her up, finally, forcing her legs to wrap tightly around him.  As he walked, he realized his positioning mistake. With each step, his tip pressed into her and Felicity began to squirm from the pressure.

*

Oliver must have noticed her impatience, because half way up the stairs, he pushed aside her underwear just before he pushed into her.

"God, Felicity," he moaned, moving her up and down along his shaft. "You...are...so...fucking...tight...," he called out with each thrust.

For a girl who could talk, Felicity was speechless. Her mind was a jumble of feelings and sensations, and just moments after Oliver entered her, she convulsed, toes curling, legs spasming, hands clawing at his skin. She called out unintelligible words, mixed in with screams of his name.

*

Oliver couldn't believe this was happening. That Felicity was here, and that he was inside her. All the times he fantasized about her, it had never been this good. When he felt he clenching around him, he couldn't stave off the inevitable, and he came undone with her.

They stayed that way, panting heavily, leaning against the stairs, for a while. Oliver cuddled into her, memorizing the curve of her hip, the freckles on her legs, and the beat of her heart. He could have stayed there all night, admiring her body, if she hadn't reached down and started alternating between massaging her clit and his cock.

"Bed?" she asked once more, grinning at him like a fool.  
"Yes," he grinned back.

This time they made it, and Oliver kept his promise of tenderness, loving Felicity like he hoped she'd never been loved before.

*

"I love you," Oliver whispered, trailing his fingers down her arm.

Felicity snuggled into his side, mumbling "love you too" into his chest. It wasn't until the next morning, when she was staring at his peaceful, sleeping figure, that the reality of them came crashing around her. She knew, in that moment, that he was it for her. That she would never love anyone the way she loved him.

He was her happy ending, her soulmate, her person.

And she knew he felt the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all she wrote (literally, or, at least for now). 
> 
> Thank you all for reading, for your comments, for your kudos, and for your patience! This was such a great experience and I'm so happy I could share it with all of you!


End file.
